Hey There Now
by dancingitout
Summary: Post S10 finale. Two miserable people and 5251 miles apart - will they get back together?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

Cristina sent one last message to her mother before she switched off her cell phone. She was already seated on the plane, mindlessly flicking through the magazine in front of her, waiting for the plane to take off.

The anxiety only hit her when the air stewardess started checking on the passengers in the flight. Her heart sank, and she felt like her stomach was tied in knots. She appreciated the fact that there was no one sitting beside her - she was totally not in the mood for small talk.

She had decided to leave, but she didn't want to leave. She had been trying for weeks, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. She ended up changing the date again and again, until her twisted sister had forcefully put her on a cab on that day.

After the plane crash,she had been incredibly afraid of planes, or the notion of getting on one and flying. She either made herself drunk before getting on a plane or had someone to travel with her, to hold her hand and also to distract her.

But now, she was moving across the country alone.

She didn't feel finished. Meredith told her that there was no finish line, but that didn't make her feel any better. She really didn't feel finished, especially with _him_. She wished that they had figured out a way to work things out, but the ER _had to_ be swamped on the day she left.

They didn't even have a big goodbye.

A lump formed in her throat and tears started welling up in her eyes.

As much as she wished that he could have come with her, she knew she only had herself now.

Cristina closed her eyes and felt tears roll down her cheeks.

She was leaving.

* * *

**NOTE: Thank you Eliza for being an awesome beta reader! And any feedback &amp; reviews would be greatly appreciated. I hope you like this story! :D  
**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

_**Klausman Institute for Medical Research, Zurich, Switzerland**_

_Budget, new protocols, surgery reports. Paperwork for 3 hours. No one told me this was part of the deal. Why didn't anyone tell me?!_ Cristina grumpily reviewed the department's annual budget, silently complaining about the amount of paperwork she had to complete, because _everyone_ suddenly had new research ideas when the new chief came in. It perfect in there – the surgeries she got to pick, the unlimited funding for her research, the cutting edge technology . . . but the paperwork. Freaking paperwork. She sighed. _Almost_ perfect.

"Dr. Yang, Dr. Gardner from University Hospital Zurich is on line 2."

_Great, just when I have so many things to work on._

"Thank you, Alicia." Cristina plastered a smile on her face and picked up the phone. "Dr. Cristina Yang speaking."

"Hello Dr. Yang, this is Dr. Gardner. How are you? How's your research going?" The voice almost sang into the phone. She rolled her eyes.

"Great, great, thank you." _Please just let me finish my paperwork. I want to go back to my OR. Please, please._

"The seminar you gave last week was wonderful! My attendings and residents can't wait for you to come back. I must say, everyone was utterly amazed—"

"Thank you, that's very nice of you." _Can I get my pen to automatically sign everything while I work in my research lab? Maybe I should start a project like this here._

"Uhm, this might be rather abrupt. May I ask you for a quick favor? One of our trauma surgeons has left and we are looking for suitable candidates to fill up the job opening, so I was wondering if you had any recommendations?" A wry smile flickered across her face.

_Trauma, trauma. Quick and dirty. _

"Oh okay. Trauma – Let me see what I can do. I'll get back to you soon."

_No time to make things pretty, no time for mistakes. _

"Thank you, Dr. Yang! Have a nice day."

"You too, Dr. Gardner."

She put down the phone and was immediately lost in thought. Thinking of those days in Seattle, her lips curled into a smile.

_Mistakes are how you learn._

After a while, she asked for her assistant. "Alicia, could you get me Dr. Manning from Trauma?"

"Right away, Dr. Yang."

* * *

Mindlessly watching the world go by – an attempt to withdraw herself from the pile of papers on her desk - Cristina decided that for every hour she spent on paperwork, she would spend double in the OR, or her research lab. Just when she was silently complimenting herself for making such a brilliant call, a gentle knock on her door caused her to jump out of her daydream with a start.

"Dr. Yang, is there anything else you need?"

"No, you can go home now."

Alicia turned to leave and Cristina was lost in her daydream again. She was contemplating if she should just abandon everything on her desk and go home when she heard Alicia mumbling about something.

"What?" She was slightly baffled. Did Alicia say something?

"Oh, it's nothing Dr. Yang. I'm just saying that there is a full moon hanging over us tonight. . ." She gave a quick glance out the window.

"Oh right, right, yeah, there is." _I wonder if he is looking at the moon now, _she said to herself, _and it is not even night at Seattle._ She smiled, shaking her head at her silly thought.

"What are you laughing at, Dr. Yang?"

"Nothing," Cristina shook her head again, "Good night, Alicia."

After her assistant bid her farewell, she continued with her paperwork, reading reports till she got immensely bored and decided to divert her attention towards the files sent by her head of trauma –profiles of a few trauma surgeons in Europe.

* * *

Our life is patched up of various decisions. We spend every day making countless decisions, ranging from the simpler ones like what to eat for lunch, to those that ought to be taken seriously, like picking a major in college, declaring a war on a country or moving across the world. Some people trusted their instinct and followed their heart; some hired analysts and set up a focus group, while some simply flipped a coin.

Well, as a rational person, Cristina would make a pros and cons list in order to get a clear grasp of the whole situation. Stanford or Columbia? Smith or Boston? Write it down, and you shall know – so as she believed.

But this was different.

She put down those profiles and sighed. She didn't need them, for she knew all along whose name she should give. His experience at Maryland Shock Trauma and the sandpit would be valuable for the hospital, and as compared to Seattle, research opportunities are more abundant at Zurich - she knew he had always wanted to start his own research. She thought that this would be good for him.

And she missed him.

She could remember how he always looked when he was in the ER - she loved watching him, sneaking a glance at him once and then.

She could remember that his face would be obviously relaxed when there was a slow and quiet day in the ER, and he might even take a short trip to the cardio wing.

She could remember how his brow would furrow when he was working with such intense concentration.

And she could remember how he frowned when he couldn't stop the bleeding.

If the patient started coding, his face would harden and he would look _really_ grim – afterwards, if they managed to bring the patient back, she'd catch his relieved-looking eyes, and he would give her a subtle nod before continuing to work on the patient.

She remembered. She remembered everything.

Weren't these reasons good enough?

But she couldn't bring herself to do so. No matter how many reasons she can find, she was afraid of ruining his life, again.

* * *

She thought about the night they met - the pen trach, the icicle, and the kiss. How absurd did it all seem now, that she was impaled by a freaking icicle. _An icicle? Seriously?_

And he came to save her like a knight in shining armor. "Damsel in distress." He had muttered under his breath and slightly shook his head as he scooped her up from the cold, freezing ground to take her to the ER. She had protested silently in frustration. "I am not some poor little girl who needs saving," she had thought, "put me down!"

But she remembered how that thought had died down. That was the first time she'd gotten lost in his blue eyes, and she'd gladly do so for years.

That night, Dr. Webber had offered him a job at SGH. She'd raised her eyebrow when she heard it, wondering how he would respond. Even though it had only been a few hours since they met, she wanted him to stay. She wanted to know more about him as a doctor, and also as a person. Sitting on the gurney, she couldn't see his face, but she could feel that he hesitated. He swiftly turned round to face her for a brief second and that got her hopes up, wishing that he would stay, for her. However, he turned down the offer to return to the army.

She had been upset for no reason – _"I had only known him for like, 4 hours?"_ she had thought. But she tried to put on a smile, to mask her disappointment, to hide it in front of him – and then all of a sudden, he had grabbed her face and given her a long slow kiss on the lips.

She remembered his warm blue eyes telling her that this wasn't the end.

Like Dr. Webber's job offer, she understood that this one would turn his life upside down too. Would he uproot his life to move 5251 miles from Seattle to Zurich, to her?

_Should I do this? _She wondered.

* * *

A weak stream of sunlight peeked through the curtains at Klausman Institute for Medical Research. A young man in blue scrubs nodded at Alicia and walked into the office of director of cardiothoracic surgery. Instead of looking nervous, his eyes were beaming and he couldn't stop grinning.

"Dr. Yang?"

"Yes, Shane. Come in. Have a seat." Cristina couldn't help noticing that Shane looked very, very happy. He tried to put on a straight face, but his effort was in vain. Shane was _really_ excited.

"Shane, you look… happy. Or high. " Her brows knitted together, pursing her lips in concentration. Why was her resident _so_ elevated? She wondered if he was stealing morphine from patients because he looked exactly like a kid in a theme park who had just gotten off a roller coaster and couldn't stop bouncing up and down and was now ready to go for another round.

"Yes, I am on an adrenaline rush - two back-to-back surgeries and another one in the afternoon, I am thrilled! The patient was coding, and Dr. Lockhart just . . ." Shane rambled on about how great the surgery had been, leaving a speechless Cristina staring at him. He finally realized that he was talking too much, "Sorry Dr. Yang. That's inappropriate. I am sorry. You wanted to see me?" He looked at Cristina apologetically and took a deep breath to cool himself, but he could barely contain his excitement.

"Yeah, it was, and I did. You looked like you were going to burst in glee. " Shane's eyes widened, and his face flushed with embarrassment. Cristina cleared her throat, "Listen, Shane, I wanted to ask you something. I was wondering what made you want to move to Zurich?"

"Oh. That. . ." Shane took a second to think. They both waited. "Uhm, it's because I think I'll be better off here. For my career, and also myself. You knew what happened back then. . ." Shane cringed at the thought, shaking his head as if to shake off the memory. "I wasn't sure at first, but I took a chance. I am glad that I did. Well, I felt like Bilbo Baggins, except that I volunteered."

Cristina laughed at the Hobbit reference. "Thank you, Shane. Now go back to work."

The moment of enlightenment had come; she knew exactly what she should do.

* * *

_**University Hospital Zurich, Zurich, Switzerland**_

"Dr. Gardner, did you receive my email?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you very much Dr. Yang, we really appreciate it."

He got off the phone and started studying the list of names. There was a Dr. Owen Hunt from Seattle with a very interesting remark– _"Constructed an OR table from an exploded Humvee in the middle of a desert."_

Amazed, he called out to his assistant. "Caitlin, can you please leave a message for David Lee from HR? Tell him to find out about a – one second – Dr. Owen Hunt from Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital from Seattle. He is potentially our next head of Trauma."

* * *

_**Cristina's apartment, Zurich, Switzerland**_

Sipping on her cup of tea, she sat on her balcony staring at the sunset, lost in her own thoughts.

_You should ditch this place. Go for the adventure. You telling me this place gives you a rush? A high?_

_Owen, will you take this adventure with me?_

* * *

**NOTE: I hope you enjoy this chapter and also a big thank you to Eliza for beta reading! ;)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

_**Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, Seattle, United States**_

"Hello, is this Dr. Owen Hunt?"

"Yes this is him. Who am I speaking to?"

"It's David Lee from the HR department of University Hospital Zurich. Sir, I just want to check with you if you have received our email?"

"Yes I did." Owen drummed his fingers on his desk and stared out of the window. Another phone call from headhunters. . .

"It'd be an honor if you could consider our offer, sir, we made a few calls and we must say we are completely amazed by your service to your country . . ." As he rambled on, Owen made a few noises to let him know he was listening . . . although he wasn't. He had to get the budget sorted out as soon as possible, before the hospital had to shut another research lab down, which would bring more drama in the hospital - as if they hadn't had enough.

"Thank you for the offer, but I have no intention of relocating at the moment." Owen got off the phone and rested his head on the chair's backrest. The budget was irritating. He needed to cut someone open before he went nuts from those figures. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed. Another wave of headaches hit him - he had no idea when he last slept.

A quick knock on the door brought Owen to attention, "Dr. Hunt, trauma coming in, ETA 2 minutes."

"Be right there." He smirked, toying with the thought of turning into a surgery junkie as he briefly tidied his desk. With a straight face, he headed to the ER quickly.

* * *

The rain never seemed to stop pouring in Seattle. As he stood in front of the ER, waiting for the arrival of an incoming trauma, she crept into his thoughts.

It had been two months since she left.

He tried to move on, he really did; he buried himself in work so that he could get everything out of his mind. He forced himself to go to the gym every day so that he would get so exhausted that he would fall asleep immediately when he reached his bed. He kept himself occupied all the time so that he wouldn't have room to think about her.

But she still managed to break into his thoughts.

And everyone in the hospital either kept asking him if he was OK or just wouldn't stop telling him to get a new date. And he found this very, very annoying. People had to understand that he was fine, she wasn't dead; he didn't need a date, instead he needed time to heal, or a Cristina.

And his new ambitious chief of cardio insisted on solving the mysterious McNeil case. He knew it was irrational, but he was pissed at her. Why couldn't she just leave things the way it was?

He had to stop himself from paging cardio and then expecting her to walk through the door.

He missed her so much.

* * *

He liked being in the OR, where his mind could be untangled and his focus was solely on the patient - where he managed to keep her out of his mind.

And now, lying on a bed in an on call room, he felt like he was back to square one.

The room was extremely quiet. So quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat, accompanied by the sound of rain drops hitting the window. He remembered that she liked the weather here. She had said that she found it too bright and shiny back home in sunny Beverly Hills. He chuckled at the thought of a young Cristina pouting and whining about the weather while everyone happily roasted themselves on the beach.

No matter how hard Owen tried to tire himself out, it was hard to fall asleep. His mind was too active all the while, and when it finally died down, he would start thinking of her. Of them.

And he had no idea where he should sleep, for every corner reminded him of Cristina – the on call rooms in the cardio wing, the closet in the ER, the conference room – his trailer even smelled like Cristina.

He silently contemplated the offer from the headhunter that morning; a change in his life would probably do him good at the moment.

* * *

Owen was deep in thought when his cell phone rang, disrupting the protracted silence in the room, and he jumped with fright. He took a deep breath to compose himself before answering his phone – PTSD certainly didn't do well with surprise.

"Owen Hunt speaking." He willed his voice to be confident and professional, rather than someone who had been startled by the mere sound of his phone ringing.

"Hello Dr. Hunt! This is Dr. Gardner from University Hospital Zurich. I'm so sorry for calling you at this hour – I couldn't reach you earlier. . ."

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I was in surgery."

"Oh, of course, I understand that." Dr. Gardner laughed. "I heard from the HR department that you turned down our offer, so I will just be straightforward – is there anything wrong? Because we would really like to have you here, and I'd do anything to get you here. Ha-ha." He sounded too cheerful, too optimistic - a great contrast to the dark and gloomy Owen, who laughed half-heartedly. Before he could respond, Dr. Gardner continued talking. "One of our esteemed colleagues here had recommended you and we are really impressed by your resume. Listen, why don't you take a visit to our hospital before you decide?"

Owen's mouth hung open with shock. He could see that they were attempting to woo him, but still, giving out a free trip? That's risky. You could never predict if you would get the money back.

"Uhm, a trip? In person?" asked Owen.

"Yes! Definitely not a virtual tour. Ha-ha." Owen laughed weakly. He was worn out after a long day in the ER, and he hadn't realized how tired he was until that moment. "You don't have to decide now. Just call my office when you make up your mind and I'll have my assistant arrange everything for you."

"Yeah, yeah, ok. I'm sorry; may I ask where your hospital is?" Owen couldn't think straight anymore; he was on the verge of falling asleep.

"Well, this is University Hospital Zurich so we are in Zurich. Ha-ha."

"Oh, right, right, of course." Owen chided himself silently for asking such a dumb question. "I'll get back to you soon."

"Okay, I expect to hear from you soon." Dr. Gardner hung up; the silence in the on-call room is restored. Owen sat cross-legged on the bed, stunned. _Zurich?_

The rain was surprisingly soothing that night. Thinking about his possible upcoming trip to Zurich, he gave in to his weariness and fell asleep for the first time in days.

* * *

Owen did not have a good night's sleep – his dreams were full of Cristina. He dreamed of himself waking up with Cristina at the firehouse, at his old apartment, at the trailer, at a hotel, and some other strange places that he couldn't recognize. He was absolutely disappointed when he found himself alone in the on-call room. After he freshened up himself, he headed over to his office and continued to work on the department's budget.

A light knock on the door interrupted his thought. "Come in," Owen called.

The door opened and Meredith stepped in, "There you are," She closed the door behind her and sat in the chair opposite Owen, "I hope I'm not intruding."

Raising his eyebrows, he asked, "Is there anything I can help you?"

"Yeah . . . I just wanted to check if you're ok."

Owen shook his head and chuckled, "Do you know that almost everyone in the hospital has asked me if I'm OK? It's been happening so many times in a day that I have lost count." Meredith joined him in his laughter. Owen sat back in his chair, and said sadly, "She is not dead, you know."

"Yes, I know. I'm just checking if you are ok." Meredith watched Owen's face for a reaction. Knowing that she wasn't going to get one, she continued, "So, are you ok?"

A silence fell between them.

"How's work going? Is everything alright?" Her hands fidgeted nervously on her lap, hoping that he would start talking.

Owen shook his head at her attempt to make small talks, "You know, you don't have to do this."

"I know, but she asked me to look after you and make sure that you don't get dark and twisty!" She exclaimed frustratingly, throwing her hands up. "So now, I'm asking you, are you ok?" She stared straight at him, not blinking for one moment.

Owen sighed. "You know, sometimes I wonder if people really mean it when they ask someone if they are ok, or this is simply a social convention. I mean, do they really care if I'm ok? Who cares if I'm not fine? I'm breathing. My heart is still beating. I come to work every day, I work out, and I complete all my paperwork. I'm ok."

"You need to do more than that to convince me," Meredith frowned, and paused, thinking how she should continue. "You know, it will get better. Just give it some time."

"Oh, that one!" Owen raised his eyebrows, his face twisted in mock-surprise. "Yeah, everyone says 'time heals all wounds', 'time heals almost everything', 'time will help you move on', etcetera. It's like time can do anything. But at the same time, they also say that absence makes the heart grow fonder." He leaned forward in his chair. "You see, I'm really confused here, because this," he gestured with his hand wildly, "is completely contradicting. So, the longer she's gone, the easier it is for me to move on or the more I am supposed to want her?" As he spoke, his voice trembled with rage. All his anger and frustration spilled out in his words. He took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to cool himself down.

"And I don't even know what we are now . . ." he said weakly.

Meredith looked at the miserable man sitting opposite her, who was obviously still deeply in love with her person, even though she was halfway across the globe, and sighed. As the silence between them became uncomfortable, she spoke quietly. "You should go to Zurich."

"What?" Owen frowned.

Meredith was about to explain herself when her pager beeped. She frowned as she checked her pager, and shook her head lightly.

"I've got to go." She stood up and turned to leave. "Go to Zurich. Go find her. You guys never had a proper goodbye, so go to Zurich and sort things out." She looked at Owen warmly. "I'll even buy you the flight ticket."

Owen laughed and nodded gratefully. "Thank you, but I'll pass. I can afford the flight ticket myself, ha-ha."

He mouthed a 'thank you' to her as she closed the door. Resting his head back on the chair, he closed his eyes and pondered on what she had just said. Maybe, he should really go to Zurich.

* * *

He finally dragged himself back to the trailer after spending days in the hospital. He fumbled tiredly in his bag to look for his keys, but only to be proven fruitless. He had probably left his keys in his office. _Great,_ he thought, _now I have to go get the spare keys from Derek_.

Staring at the glittering back sky, he sat down outside the trailer wearily. His mind flashed back to those days back at the firehouse, when he would often find Cristina sitting at the balcony with a glass of red wine. Tiptoeing towards her, he gave her a quick peck on the lips, to let her know that he was home. With her snuggled up on his side, they would sit there together in silence, enjoying each other's company after a long day. _There's a full moon tonight_ \- he wondered if she was looking at the moon, only to be let down when he remembered that Zurich was 9 hours ahead of Seattle. He sighed, _she is probably sleeping now._

He'd finally made up his mind - he decided that he'd call Dr. Gardner the next day to let him know that he would visit Zurich, because - he thought, rolling his eyes - time zones suck.

* * *

**NOTE: A big thank you to Eliza for being an awesome beta reader! So what do you think of this chapter? Please leave a review! I'd love to hear your opinions! ;)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

Walking out of the hospital with a big smile on his face, Owen was satisfied that he had had a productive meeting with Dr. Gardner—it had been amazing in the OR—and he was very, very pleased with what the hospital could offer. Still thrilled after the surgery, he decided that it was time for some exploring. He strolled down the streets around the hospital and took the tram with no specific destination in mind, enjoying the excitement and high of being in a foreign country where no one knew him. (Well, there _was_ one exception.)

To Owen, Zurich was great—the city was clean, calm, and chilly. It was only his second day there but he had already grown fond of it, even though he would have to brush up on his German if he eventually decided to move here. So far the people he had encountered in Zurich were friendly, warm-hearted and eager to help. Although he found Dr. Gardner, who couldn't stop discussing the possibility of taking a ski trip together in December, a bit too jolly, Owen decided that he was a nice guy, and potentially a good friend too.

He liked the university hospital—the positive work environment, the sophisticated medical equipment, the high level of performance and efficiency in the ER—he was definitely amazed. Surely, there were things that could be improved, but it was great overall. During his visit to the hospital, he had been invited to scrub in for a surgery, and he could totally see himself working there.

Heck, they'd even promised him a research lab.

On a random whim, Owen got off the tram and walked into a café just down the street. He settled down at a table overlooking the street and ordered a latte, watching the world go by as he enjoyed the rare pleasure of simply doing nothing.

And he inevitably found his thoughts drifting toward her. She crept into his mind, quietly, little by little since the moment his plane had landed at the airport, and by the time he realized what was happening, he could not keep her out anymore.

He'd lied, when he claimed that he got off the tram randomly. He knew very well that he was merely five minutes walking distance away from her, all he had to do was walk two blocks from the tram station and he would find himself in front of her hospital.

Instead, he chose to be here, in this café, staring at the clear blue sky—maybe, this was the closest he could be to her. He sighed.

Hours passed, and his grumbling stomach brought him back to the present, reminding him that it had been some time since his last meal. He nodded at the barista with a small smile on his face as he made his way out of the café, concentrating on the screen of his phone, trying to figure out what he should have for dinner.

At the same time, a petite woman with wild black curls stepped inside her favourite _konditorei_ wearily, and almost collapsed in front of the counter, for she was so exhausted after another lengthy board meeting that she had utterly no idea what was happening around her.

"Hi Dr. Yang," said the barista cheerfully, "usual?"

Cristina nodded, too tired to speak. She watched the people walking on the street as she waited for her coffee, when she caught something from the corner of her eyes.

Or, more accurately, someone.

She squinted, straining for a better line of sight, but eventually shrugged the idea off. Sleepily, she thought: there was no way he could be here.

* * *

Despite the long hours, Jules liked her part time job. It's probably because she was well paid, but also because she could spend time watching customers, creating stories for them in her head.

Nonetheless, Jules always made time to read. The door creaked open, bringing her to her attention. She looked up from her book and quickly put it aside as the man walked towards the counter, ready to take his order. He was the touristy-looking man who came yesterday, Jules remembered.

"Good afternoon sir, may I take your order?" asked Jules.

"Hi. One hot latte please. And a zopf. Thank you." said the man. Jules returned him his change and watched as he brought his coffee to the same place he sat yesterday, before picking up her book again.

* * *

Owen found himself back at the same café after lunch on the next day, taking a short break—or maybe there was a part of him yearning for the comfort he found in being two blocks away from her.

He sipped his hot coffee and let it warm his throat and stomach. It was three in the afternoon, a cloudless, sunny day but with a gentle breeze blowing. A sense of calm engulfed him as the sunlight poured in through the windows, and for the first time in months, he felt relaxed, his mind at peace.

Owen waited till the barista finished cleaning the table next to him, and called to her.

"Yes sir, how can I help you?" she said.

"Uhm, can you talk to me about Zurich? Like places that only the locals know?" He asked. "I believe there's more than what's mentioned on Google."

"Of course!" She laughed and nodded enthusiastically. Always excited to meet new people, Jules was keen to help, and for the next ten minutes, she filled him in on details about the city she grew up in, telling the blonde man about her favourite restaurants, the botanical garden she used to visit when she was young, and some of the best deals in town. She was cheerful, easy going and talkative, and Owen was slightly relieved that he didn't have to try hard to keep the conversations going. He nodded in agreement, interrupting her once in a while only to ask questions, making notes on some tips she shared.

"Thank you very much," he said, "you've been a great help to me! Now, one last question—" he glanced out the window and pointed at a tall building, "is that the Klausman institute?"

"You are welcome, sir. It's my pleasure." She smiled and went on, "That's right. They conduct medical researches in many fields, but mostly cardio. It is one of the best in the country, possibly even the world. Surgeons and specialists from all over the globe work there . . . I heard that they are working towards printing a fully functional heart."

He lifted an eyebrow, wondering how much she knew about Klausman. "Thank you. You seem very familiar with the hospital."

She blushed, and gave a little smile, "I did an attachment there last summer. I'm going to med school next month. UZH."

"Ah, I see. That explains why you are reading _Gray's Anatomy_." he chuckled and said, "Welcome to the club. I'm a surgeon. Trauma."

She excitedly reached out to shake his hand and said, "Trauma! It must be very exciting in the ER. Can you tell me about it?" she motioned to the empty seat, "May I sit down? I'm Jules by the way."

"Dr. Owen Hunt. Sure, but are you sure your boss will be ok with it?"

"I'll just tell her that I'm showing you places in Zurich." They shared a laughter, and were quiet for a moment, as Owen deliberated over cases he worked on.

"Every day in the ER we have patients coming in in many different states. Like DOA, unconscious, or perfectly fine on the outside with really bad internal injury . . ." Owen said. "There was once in my hospital that a patient came in, and we couldn't locate his heartbeat—which is actually not something unusual—but he was not in coma or unconscious. He was still breathing, and I'm pretty sure that our devices were not malfunctioning. And so our doctors kind of freaked out." He laughed a little, and continued, "It turned out that his heart was on the other side. Ever read about situs inversus?"

Jules nodded excitingly, "I thought cases like this only exist on text books. How rare!"

"I know, right? And the surgery was challenging. Very different from how we usually work, because everything had to be done on the other side–" He said, and sighed a little when he remembered his co-surgeon. "I must admit that it was tricky, but everything went well. It was a breeze for my co-surgeon though. You know, some people are born to cut."

Jules agreed, and asked, "Do you mind if I ask which hospital you are working at? It seemed that you guys always get all the exciting and 'fun' cases. Ha-ha."

"Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, in Seattle. I'm from the United States."

"Oh my God!" Jules' eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth in shock. "Grey Sloan Memorial? Really? Do you know Dr. Cristina Yang? If I'm not mistaken, she used to work there right?"

Owen gave a sad smile. "Yes she did. We used to work together." _And she used to be my wife._

"That must be awesome! I mean, she is one of the greatest young surgeons of this era, so it must be really wonderful to be able to witness her magic in the OR . . . How I wish I can work with her one day! To be honest, I'm a bit disappointed that she only came to Klausman after I finished my attachment." She gave a little sigh, and continued, "Anyway, she comes here almost every day. Maybe you two can meet and catch up with each other later."

Owen gasped. "Are you sure? _The_ Dr. Yang?"

Before Jules could answer, a young man's voice called to her from the coffee bar. "Be right there!" Jules said and then lowered her voice, "yes, positive. She usually comes around 5. Do you want to wait for her? Or I can leave her a message on your behalf?"

Owen shook his head, and said, "No, thank you." Jules nodded, and swiftly got back to work, leaving a pondering Owen who stared out the window at the skyline of Zurich. The sense of calm he felt earlier had suddenly dissipated, and his mind raced wildly, imagining thousands of different scenarios. His heart pounded at the possibility of running into her, as a mixture of joy and sorrow hit him–the exact same way he felt when she called from Minnesota, when she asked if they could try again, when she agreed to not leave him until she left–he gulped down the last of his coffee, an attempt to drown all his feelings, and ordered another one.

* * *

Cristina muttered a 'thank you' as the barista passed her the coffee. She sipped her coffee while she slowly made her way out of the _konditorei_, enjoying the aroma of roasted coffee bean and baked goods.

She nearly choked herself when she saw what was written on the paper cup: _Take care now._

She blinked in surprise and stood there motionless, her hand clutching the paper cup like a lifebuoy. Her heart sped up; various questions swirled in her head: _Take care now? What? What in the world is happening? No one knows about this except me and Owen. Is Owen here?_ Cristina turned round in a flash and looked around the café frantically, demanding answers for her confusions.

And there he was, sitting with his back towards her, in her favourite _konditorei_, in Zurich. She couldn't see his face, but from his leather jacket and the way he sat, she was certain.

She froze. A decision to be made – fight or flight?

* * *

**NOTE: A big thank you to Eliza for beta reading this chapter. Happy Valentine's day my dearest crowen fangirls! Anyway, a little announcement here: I'll try to update the story every two weeks unless there's something unexpected, like when I have to rewrite a chapter. (Like this one, this is not my first draft haha) Also, I'm very determined to finish the story and I'll try my best not to abandon it. :D What do you think about this chapter? Please leave a review and let me know your opinion! I hope you like the CO reunion! Thanks for reading. :)**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

Usually, in a fight-or-flight situation, Cristina would choose the latter. But this time, she stayed. He couldn't just show up out of the blue then walk away. She wouldn't let that happen. She had to act now.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, gathering all the courage she needed. Staring straight ahead, she walked towards him, the clicking sound of her high heels echoed in the room.

"Owen?"

* * *

It was impossible for Owen to not notice that there was someone heading in his direction.

The whole café seemed to have been tuned out, only a steady clicking sound remained—from a pair of high heels, he supposed. He heard the footsteps approaching him, and seconds later, a shadow fell over him. He did not look up from his coffee, at least not right away, until a woman's voice said his name.

It's the voice which he often woke up to.

The voice in his broken down déjà vu.

The voice in his dreams.

He had spent the last few hours preparing himself, imagining thousands possible scenarios. Nevertheless, he was astounded. He looked up, and found her standing in front of him.

It had been a while.

"Cristina." He acknowledged her presence with a nod. Everything around them seemed to have frozen in time, leaving only the two of them staring at each other.

* * *

Cristina asked if the seat opposite him was empty. Without waiting for an answer, she sat down, crossing her legs under the table, shifting in her seat until she got comfortable. Owen watched her until he felt tears well up in his eyes, forcing him to look away. He stared out the window, avoiding any kind of eye contact with his . . . actually, he had no idea what they were at that moment.

As she placed her purse and her coffee on the wooden table, she slowly let out a long breath which she hadn't been aware that she was holding. She took a good look at him, and immediately noticed that he seemed to have lost some weight since their last encounter—his face a little paler, his eyes circled with purplish half-moons; obviously due to lack of sleep, she guessed. She felt a pang in her heart, but tried to ignore it. A million questions ran in her head: _What is he doing here? How long has he been in Zurich? What happened after I left, and what's happening now?_ She might seem calm and indifferent, but inside, she was nervous and shocked at the same time, replaying all the events of the day in her head: rounds, two surgeries, reviewed some reports, mandatory coffee break, saw the words, turn around, and then. . . now.

_What a day_, she thought.

For a long moment, they left each other alone with their own thoughts, until Cristina broke the silence. "Owen," she said, trying to keep her tone steady, "what are you doing here?"

He turned halfway around to face her. "Nothing much, just taking a short trip. I'm visiting a hospital." He said, adding nothing more before staring out the window again. No comments on the hospital he was visiting, no questions about her hospital, or her life in Zurich. Absolutely nothing.

She waited, but nothing happened. So she just let her words slip away and sipped her coffee, not really sure where she should look at.

* * *

The sun was setting, and the sky faded from pale blue to indigo. Looking at the sky, Owen's heartbeat finally slowed down after all the excitement and surprise of meeting her, his racing mind tamed. He watched people bustling on the street, crushing each other as they rushed home for dinner.

_Home. _He sighed.

He did not even know if he had a place like that. After all, he only had Derek's trailer.

His mind flashed back to those days when he would wait for Cristina at the hospital lobby after his shift was over, and they would walk back to her apartment—a place which he could call it home—together afterwards, with his arm hanging loosely around her shoulder. She would tell him about her day: her patients, her 'hopeless' interns, how she rocked the OR, and also all the gossips in the hospital. He remembered the gleam in her face as she talked, and he had always loved watching her.

Owen couldn't suppress the tiniest of smiles as he replayed their good old days together. His thought flew back to Seattle, to the question he had started asking himself since the arrival of his job offer. What did he still have there? He wondered. There's his mother, his sisters, some friends, his job—and then what else?

No, she wasn't there. But she was here, right in front of him.

He sighed, again. He glanced quickly across the table at her. She was actually sitting opposite him, in person.

He had thought about this for some many times. But right now, as it happened, he felt . . . confused. Puzzled. He had no idea how he should talk to her—'Hey, it's great running into you here! How are you?' sounded really awkward—or what he should do. And so, he opted to avoid it.

He chose to hold off making decisions on Zurich. It was too soon to decide on anything.

* * *

With one hand propping her chin, Cristina looked at Owen and wondered what he was thinking. A small smile crept onto his face as he watched the street, as if there was something amusing. She gently called out to him, "Owen?"

"Yes?" He turned around and faced her.

"How are you doing?" She asked.

"Fine. Thank you." He replied, keeping his answer short.

"Which hospital are you visiting?"

"USZ."

"I see. Is everything alright in Seattle?"'

"Yes."

"How long have you been here?"

"3 days."

"How long are you going to stay here?"

"A week."

"Oh. Ok."

Again, the conversation died away, leaving only the sounds of coffee machines and the chatter of other customers in the background. She had the feeling that he was reluctant to talk. She sighed weakly and decided to fix her focus on something else.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. She tried to ease the atmosphere but obviously, her effort was in vain. _Is he trying to shut her out? Is he angry at her?_ She wondered. Maybe she's too sensitive . . . or maybe not.

* * *

The almost formal distance between them was getting unbearable. She had already finished her coffee, which meant no more pretending to sip her coffee and sneaking stolen glances at him. She sighed, and looked at him as he continued to stare out the window.

"You like . . . the street? I mean, you like watching the people? Or the scenery?"

He was surprised by her rather abrupt questions. After taking a brief moment to think about it, he answered, "Yeah . . . both, I think. This café is a nice people watching spot."

She laughed a little. "Yes, I agree. Have you been here before? Were you here yesterday?" Owen nodded without saying anything, and Cristina went on, "I see. So I wasn't hallucinating." She waited for a response, hoping that he would eventually start talking, only to grow more discouraged with every passing second.

A peek over her watch revealed that she had been out for half an hour. Cristina gathered her purse and rose from her seat. "I have to go back to my hospital now. Do you want to come?" She offered.

She watched his face for a reaction, and deep down, she prayed that he would say yes. But Owen just looked up at her and shook his head. Cristina quickly masked her disappointment with a small smile, and leaned over to give him a quick perk on the cheek as she whispered in his ear, "Ok then . . . enjoy your stay in Zurich. Take care now." She then made her way out of the café swiftly, ignoring the tears that were welling up rapidly in her eyes. Willing herself not to cry on the street, she walked as fast as she could. There were a lot of noises and footsteps behind her, but she was not intrigued to find out what's happening, and so she quickened her pace, hoping to reach her office as soon as possible.

A light tap on her shoulder made Cristina turn around, and she saw Owen panting heavily in front of her, obviously out of breath after a run.

"I'm sorry," he paused to catch his breath. "I changed my mind. Can I visit your hospital? And do you always walk this fast?"

"Sure." Cristina blinked back the tears pooling in her eyes and laughed. "And yeah, I think so."

With their hands in their pockets, they set off side by side, heading towards Cristina's hospital. His arm brushed hers lightly, giving her a little tingling feeling. As they walked, Cristina couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of her eyes. She felt an overwhelming desire to grip his hand, or entwine her arm around his, but she tried to ignore it.

They stopped right across the hospital, waiting for the green light to cross the road. Being caught off guard, she gasped in shock when he reached for her hand, and he smirked a little at her expression.

* * *

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand in front of the hospital. He caught a flicker of disappointment in her expression before she put on a smile. Not an excited grin, but more of a small smile with a sense of pride that couldn't go unnoticed.

"So . . . this is my hospital." She waved her hand, motioning to the hospital.

He nodded and slid his hand into his pocket. Together, they stepped inside the quiet hospital. People walked past them hastily, nodding and giving a small smile before continuing what they were doing. Owen was greeted by a familiar yet strange smell of disinfectant—largely similar to what they used in GSMH, but also different at the same time. Cristina tugged at his sleeve, motioning him to come with her. She walked in front of him, pointing out something in the hospital to him now and then, her long black curls brushing her shoulders. Though he had the urge to move her hair aside so that he could see that back of his neck, he resisted it.

"And here are all the printers—" she pointed them out to Owen as they strode past the busy area, where doctors and engineers focused intensely on the printers, anticipating their products, "we have 50 of them." She led him across the hallway, and he watched as she fumbled in her pocket for her keys before opening a door down the corner, "And here is the 51st printer, and also my research lab."

She followed after him as they made their ways into her lab, and then locked the door behind her. Baffled, he turned around, his eyebrow raised at her.

"We need to talk." She met his eyes, daring him to look away. "Don't we?"

He frowned with a tiny nod, "Yes. We do."

* * *

If you had met Owen a month ago, he would have laughed if you told him that he would take a trip to Zurich the next month and then run into Cristina at a café. He would have asked you to stop joking.

He was standing in front of her now, and it was not a dream.

He had dreamed of this so many times, but when it finally did happen, he had no idea what he should do. So he looked into her brown eyes, feeling a mixture of sorrow and fury rising up inside him like acid indigestion.

He was angry, upset, hurt and confused at the same time.

* * *

**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. And I miss crowen so much. Should we start a fundraiser so that we can get a flight ticket for Owen? :/ **  
** Please let me know what you think about this chapter! Thank you!**


	6. Chapter 5

**NOTE: Hi everyone! I am so sorry that I couldn't update the story in the last month because I was busy with college application. Now that it's over, I promise I will do everything I can to update regularly! Again, I am so sorry for the long wait. In case you don't remember what happened in the last chapter, here's a quick recap: "Previously on Hey There Now—Owen flew to Zurich, ran into Cristina, and they visited her hospital." (Do imagine Kevin &amp; Sandra saying this hahahahaha) **

**This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza (Thank you!), and I think _I Almost Do_ by _Taylor Swift_ goes well with this chapter. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

"Or maybe not. Maybe this is a mistake." He heard she says.

"Seriously?" Owen turned round and faced her. "Are we still going to ignore all the problems at this point?"

Hesitantly, Cristina took a few steps toward him, but it didn't close up the distance between them. The few feet felt like the immense Pacific Ocean, impossible to cross. Her impulse had prompted her to choose 'fight' in this flight-or-fight situation and thus she offered that they talk, but merely seconds later, she wanted to take her words back, because deep down, she was scared. Although she hated the state they were in, she was more afraid of facing the future. Afraid of what the talk would lead. Afraid that talking meant another goodbye. Afraid that she would really lose him this time.

She understood that running away would bring them nowhere, but if facing this meant losing him forever, she would rather let things stay unfinished. Thinking about this made her feel like an ostrich even though ostriches didn't really bury their head in the sand. But whatever.

Crossing her arms, she glared at him and held his gaze. She said nothing. She just continued staring at him.

"I thought you died." He said, his tone flat and cold.

Her brows furrowed in consternation. "Excuse me?"

"The day the mall exploded? I thought you died in there."

"Well, obviously I didn't." She said with a shrug.

"I was worried. You just disappeared."

She noted a sign of resignation in his tone. She could felt her throat tightening as she said matter-of-factly, "You were in surgery. And you knew I was leaving."

He sighed. "You never called."

"I emailed you."

"No, you didn't." He pointed out. "Your personal assistant did."

"Owen, what did you expect? This is what happens when people move away. When people live in different continent. When people are a few thousand miles apart." She could feel tears pooling in her eyes as she said the words out loud. "I thought we both know this."

"Yes, but we never address it. We never talked about what happens next."

"Because there's nothing to talk about."

"Don't you see it Cristina? This is the problem between us! We avoid things!"

From the corner of her eye, she saw him biting his lips, probably trying to contain all the angry words he imagined. She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing herself not to give in to the throbbing pressure of tears in her head.

He added, "I can't just leave things like that. We have to talk. I need a closure."

Knowing that her tears would be unstoppable once she started talking, she simply nodded and gestured him to go on.

"You never called. Not even once. And you have only sent me an e-mail requesting your patients' files." He scoffed. "No, your personal assistant sent it. What's her name? Alicia?" He looked at her, waiting for a response. Knowing that he wasn't going to get one, he continued, "You just left me sitting at Seattle, waiting for something that will never happen. You just left, like that. What am I to you? Out of country out of mind? " His voice was trembling as he spoke. "I never left you, Cristina Yang. Not even once. I had never walked away, Cristina. Never."

The tears in her eyes were threatening to spill. She took another deep breath, willing her tears to stop, or just defy the law of gravity and go in other directions. Either way will work, she thought. The silence in the room was deafening. She had the sense that he was debating what to say next, and she knew that she should say something at this point. But she didn't. She just stood there, reminding herself to breathe.

Most of the time, Cristina liked the way her life had turned out. Not her childhood or her teenage year, but her life after she grew up, the one she took charge of. Well, except the Harper Avery award she was robbed, and some stupid decisions that she would never mention to anyone, everything's actually pretty good. It's not that she was not contented with what she had now, but sometimes, she did wonder—what if she was never left on the aisle? What if she had never got on the plane to Boise? What if she was only a mediocre surgeon?

What if, she did win the Harper Avery?

Maybe she wouldn't have come to Zurich. Maybe GSMH and the Harper Avery foundation would have offered everything they have to make her stay. Maybe this—talking/confrontation/screaming match—wouldn't happen. At that instant, there's a voice in her head telling her to run, to hide in whatever places she could find. She wanted to flee.

But she didn't. She knew that if she walked out on him again, they would be done. Completely over, and she didn't want that.

She wished that he understood, that she had some weird telepathic super powers and he could just read her mind. She wished that he knew her feelings, but he would not know what's in her head unless she told him. It was just too hard for her to put them in words, to express her emotions out loud. Words had never been her forte. She felt it all right at the back of her throat, sitting on the base of her tongue, and keeping it in prickled her eyes. Everything would have been so much simpler if she just let her guard down and told him everything, all the things that she imagined telling him, because Owen always knew what to do. He always did. They would work things out, and go back to the safe place they were.

But was that possible? Did he still know what to do?

"I don't know, Cristina. I don't even know what we are now." He shook his head. "This is not right. This is not things should be."

Her heart sank at his words. He was as lost as she was. She laughed.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

"I don't know. You are always the one who knows where the paper clips and my phone and clean underwear are. You always know what to do, and now you are as confused as I am." Cristina tried to shake away her laughter, but failed. "This is . . . hilarious.

"What happened? How do we get here?"

The tension in the room eased for a moment. Owen managed a chuckle and slowly, he headed to the couch in one corner of the room. She went after him and took a seat next to him, maintaining a polite distance between them, her hands settled on her lap. They sat motionless in the ensuing silence, until he reached for her hand, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"I know, I asked you to go," said Owen, his voice tender, "but I didn't ask you to forget me."

Cristina felt dampness running down her face. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and made herself look full into his eyes, not fidgeting and flinching for even a bit. She drew a long breath, using all her strengths to get the words out. "I didn't."

Owen placed his arm around her shoulder, and she allowed herself to lean on him, taking some of the strengths that he readily offered. She had missed the comfort she found in him.

"What happened?" He asked softly.

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Cristina . . ."

"Wait."

And so he waited. Staring off into space, she took her time to collect herself before starting, her voice quiet. "I didn't know how to say goodbye."

He frowned. "Why?"

She considered it. "I can't breathe without you. How can I ever say goodbye?"

"You didn't have to."

"Owen, that's not true." She shook her head. "The moment the plane took off, Seattle was a lifetime ago, and I was half a globe away from you. I don't even know if we are going to meet again, let alone when. I know, we should have our big goodbye, but I just didn't know how. I'm sorry. I can't bring myself to say goodbye to you. I tried calling; I really did. But then I figure that maybe, just maybe it'd be better if you just leave me behind. You know, just forget about me and start over. So I stopped trying . . . because if I don't call, I wouldn't have to say goodbye. And I know for sure that one day, you will get over me. In this way, we both don't have to say goodbye." It had all come out in a rush, but she had said it now. "I just don't know if it was the right thing to do. To call, to reconnect, to stay in touch with you . . . I don't know if it was right for me to still linger around. To talk to you like I have never left. After all, we both want different things, you know? Maybe it's better if I leave you alone. You deserve someone who wanted the same thing."

He took a moment to absorb her words. "You are wrong, Cristina." he said, "It's not. You can't just toss me aside. This is not right. Everything is so unresolved, so unfinished . . . We didn't talk about arrangements, about us, and that just feels completely wrong." He reached for her hand. "Five years. I think deserve something more than this."

His words lingered in the air, and she gave a little nod without a word. They both sat in silence, deep in their own thoughts. Cautiously, Cristina shot Owen a sideways glance. What is he thinking?She wondered. Is he thinking of the same thing she is thinking right now? About them?

She turned halfway in her seat and took a deep breath, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. She asked, "Do you think we can go back to the place we were?"

He wiped away a tear trickling down her face with his thumb. "Do you want to?"

She didn't have to take time to consider the question. She answered right away, "I do."

He touched her face, brushing more tears away, gently stroking her cheek. She took his hand, rubbing her thumb on his. Owen sank back further into the couch, leaning his head on the wall. Resting his gaze on the row of test tubes, he began, "I spent the last three months thinking about you. That was all I could do. About the night we met, the vent, our wedding, how you slept at night, the firehouse, every little thing we did together . . ." He trailed off and closed his eyes, lost in his own memory. She studied his face, quietly waiting for him to continue. "Later, I realized that I was mostly thinking about things that I should have done differently so that we wouldn't be in this place today. Things that I shouldn't have said . . .

"I have never regretted marrying you. Never. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

She sighed, silently digesting what he said. Moments later, she asked, "Do you still think our marriage is a box? A graveyard?"

"What? No, no . . . I agreed that we got married hastily, but it's not a mistake. We got married because we love each other, not because we decide to put away our love." He rubbed a hand over his face, his weariness palpable. He let out a long breath before continuing. "But we did take something beautiful and put it into a box. When we started hiding little things away, we hid all the beautiful things too . . . We were so focused on hiding things away until it blinded us from everything. We hide things, we bury our true feelings, we made love and then pretended that we are good, when in fact everything beneath us was crumbling. We aren't honest enough with each other. We ignored things, when we should have been talking about them."

In the room, emotions washed over them like waves splashing over rocks. She considered his words. "We never talked . . ."

"You are right. That's something we never do. It's just sex after sex. Very hot, but . . ." He laughed a little before continuing. "That's what ruined us. Not talking ruined us. We hide things from each other, thinking that it's for our own good. We just push each other to things that we think are good, but we never really sit down and discuss about them—the divorce, Teddy, buying over the hospital, dating new people . . ."

"And kids."

"Especially kids . . . And that's what got us to where we are now. And if there's one thing that we should have done differently, that's talking."

She closed her eyes at his words. He was right, of course, right about all of it. "Well, acknowledging the existence of the elephant in the room is the first step." She countered.

He smiled a little at her witty comeback. "Of course, Dr. Yang." He paused, then said softly, "No matter what happened, it's up to us not to lose this. It's totally up to us. We are the one who make the call. So I think . . . if we want to make things work from now on, we need to stop hiding things from each other." He took her face gently in his hands and kissed her forehead. "We need to be honest with each other, even if the truth hurts. Trust me, being in the dark hurts even more."

"I know." She leaned in and hugged him. "Owen," she looked deep into his eyes, "we are going to figure things out this time."

"Yes," he tucked a curl behind her ear, "we are. Because I just got off the tram randomly and found you. Ok, maybe not randomly, but I still found you."

She giggled and enveloped him into a hug, the first in months. The embrace seemed to last for an eternity, as if they were trying to make up for lost time, hoping to erase all the pain they inflicted on them themselves, and hurt that they had always refused to face.

"You are right," she said, her voice soft, "no more burying things."

* * *

Wounds can be left to heal on their own, but sometimes, unattended wounds could become worse. Know the signs. When you start feeling feverish, or your wound gets swollen or weird liquids start oozing out, you know it's time to stop ignoring it. It's time to stop hoping that it'd miraculously go away. It won't. You have to face it. Go see a doctor. Do something. Because if you don't, it will never heal.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think about this chapter. Your review means a lot to me! :)**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

_Call it magic_

_Call it true_

_I call it magic_

_When I'm with you_

* * *

He let out a contented sigh. They were huddled together on the couch in Cristina's lab, her head resting on his chest. He liked the way she fit against him. He liked her quirky little habit of counting his heartbeat. It was perfect. Everything was perfect.

He felt good. He barely had any idea what time it was. He only knew it was a Wednesday, and they were fine. And that was enough.

He was mindlessly toying with her curls when a light knock on the door brought both of them out of their trance. "Dr. Yang?" A young man's voice said.

The voice was familiar. He was pretty sure that he had heard it somewhere before. Reluctantly, she removed herself from the warmth of his arm, self-consciously brushing her hair. She groaned and mumbled something about Shane always showing up at the wrong time. Ah, right. Shane Ross. The resident.

"1 sec, Dr. Ross!" She shouted at the door and turned back to face him. She whispered, "Do my eyes look puffy? Like I just cried? Just so you know, gossip travels fast here."

He studied her face, once again marveled by how perfect everything was, and shook his head. "No," he said, "you are beautiful."

A smirk crept onto her face. "You should really consider complimenting my brain, Dr. Hunt." She said and opened the door. Shane walked into the lab, the flicker of surprise on his face impossible to be missed when he noticed the presence of the other man in the room.

"Dr. Hunt."

"Dr. Ross." Owen acknowledged his presence with a nod. He brought his attention back to Cristina, who was studying the report which Shane had just handed to her, her lips pursed in concentration, her brow a little furrowed.

"These numbers are fine," she said, "but not great. Continue monitoring and keep me posted every two hours."

"Will do, Dr. Yang."

They both watched as the resident quickly exited the lab, knowing full well that his presence was intruding. Owen stood up once the door was closed and she walked towards him, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. He inhaled, breathing in the scent of coffee and her perfume. The familiar, comforting and heart-warming smell of her.

"What are you doing tonight?" asked Cristina.

"I don't know," he gave a little shrug, "probably nothing."

"Good, because I am buying you dinner tonight, Dr. Hunt." His eyebrow arched as she went on. "But only somewhere near the hospital in case something goes wrong with my patient."

"Ok." He said with a nod, "Always professional, Dr. Yang."

"Well, I'm sure you'd do the same thing, Dr. Hunt." They both laughed in agreement, and he felt her reach for his hand. "Ok. Let's go. I need to get my bag first."

He nodded. But not yet. Not before this. They had only taken three steps towards the door when he caught her by surprise for the second time in the day as he pulled her into his arms, covering her mouth with his before she could say a word. He wrapped one arm around her waist as she gripped the back of his neck, returning his kiss. It wasn't long, it wasn't heated, but it felt right. It was the exact kind of connection they both needed at that moment.

"You know," she said softly, "someone could have walked in on us."

He shrugged. "So?"

She rolled her eyes at his choice of word, but he knew she was pleased. Together they put on a straight face and made their way to the chief's office.

* * *

"Welcome to my office."

He stepped into the room, his eyes glancing around, immediately noticing the huge picture of two rows of palm trees lining a street in the sunny California. "That's . . . unlike you."

"I know, right?" She began. "My mother took that photo. She came last month, and she said that it was to remind me that that's where my home is, as if I'm going to forget where I grew up." She rolled her eyes and went on. "And the vases. She threatened that if I didn't let her decorate my office, she would step up action and decorate the whole hospital. Imagine my high school yearbook photo sitting in the front office? And pictures of me wearing a lab coat and goggles in my lab? This is more acceptable."

He laughed, once again amused by the interesting relationship between Cristina and her mother. He walked around the room, taking in the surroundings as Cristina buried herself among all the papers on the desk, promising that they would get out of the hospital right after she finished this. Other than the picture and the vases, the office was pretty Cristina-ish, which meant if a clean freak stepped inside the office, he or she might run away screaming. The documents on her table were arranged in a system that only she understood, like all her books back in the firehouse, which she had warned him never to touch. She had probably warned the people here too, he figured. There were three picture frames on the desk behind her, and he could see Cristina and Derek standing around Meredith, while Zola sat on the bed. He remembered watching them take the photo and trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach at that moment. And then there were a photo of Cristina and Meredith during their wedding, and also a photo of them. He walked around and noticed a particular tidy spot on her desk, where another picture frame sat.

He stepped closer to get a better look at it. It's the photo they used to put in the firehouse, which he still had it in his trailer. It occurred to him that she had printed another one on her own. He picked it up, touching the photo gently, lost in his own memories. He couldn't help thinking how much had happened since the day they took the photo.

Noticing that he stopped in his tracks, she lifted her head and watched him.

"I like your office." He commented. "I have this photo in the trailer too. . ."

She smiled. "I know." She briefly tidied the papers on her desk and stood up. She walked around the table and reached for his wrist, pulling his hand into hers. "Shall we?"

"What about your papers?"

"It's ok. Those can wait."

They both nodded at Alicia as they walked out the room. For a moment, Alicia was stunned at how early her boss left the office that day. She quickly texted her friend in the east wing and shared the news about the chief leaving her office with a good-looking man with her. Her friend replied her that the man was seen walking out of the chief's lab too, and she heard that he was from the chief's previous hospital. Alicia squealed and immediately googled GSMH, channelling her inner detective skills, and texted her friend the instant she got a name—like what Cristina said, gossip did travel fast in the hospital.

* * *

**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Please comment and review before you go, and fyi, I'm not going to kill Derek in this story. I'm just going to pretend that everything is fine...**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

They had gone to a cozy little Italian place nearby the hospital. Cristina had told him that they served great lasagna, and from the way she could recite the menu, he knew that she dined here quite often. He trusted her with her suggestions and let her order the food, reminding himself again to take up German class. Their waiter had just left when Cristina's cell phone started buzzing.

"Uh oh." She said as she glanced at her phone. She answered it immediately, "speaking. Yes, yes. Ok, I'm coming back now."

She turned to Owen and her expression was thrilled and apologetic at the same time. "I need to go back to the hospital now. My patient needs another surgery."

He nodded in understanding. As she rose from her seat, she asked, "Dr. Hunt, would you like to scrub in with me?"

This time, he didn't hesitate at all. "Of course," he said excitedly, "I'd love to."

* * *

The surgery lasted for four hours. He worked opposite Cristina while Shane assisted next to her. He watched as the resident tried to put on a brave face and bring himself to meet his eyes but miserably failed. It was obvious that his nightmare back then still haunted him. The situation was awkward and Owen wished that Cristina had had another assisting resident. Anyway, the surgery was successful. They had found the bleeder in time and fixed it then and there. After updating the patient's family, they went back to Cristina's office.

She plopped herself down on the couch and took off her shoes, resting her legs on the table. "I'm starving," she announced.

He laughed, amused by her expression. "Do you want me to get you some food?" He offered. "Is the cafeteria still open now?"

Cristina glanced at her watch. "No, it's not. But can you bring me that box on my table? Please?"

He glanced over his shoulder curiously and his face lit up. "Is that pizza?"

"Yes. We are still having Italian tonight."

He chuckled. "Well, do you have beer?"

"I do. It's in the mini fridge over there."

He laughed again, wondering what else she had in her office. He was also starving and so he quickly grabbed two bottles of beer and the pizza and seated himself next to her, watching her take a gulp of her beer.

"What?" She asked.

"You're amazing, you know."

"I know." They both laughed and began gobbling down their food. Over their late dinner, they exchanged stories and news over the last three months—she told him about her first staff meeting, her latest clinical trial, and how the cutting edge technology in the hospital made her feel like a kid in a toy store again. Whereas Owen gave Cristina an update on their friends—all the fighting for the board seat she left for Alex, April's pregnancy, Callie and Arizona's plan to have another baby, Derek's decision to not go to DC—in other words, all the drama in the hospital. Both of them made an attempt not to talk about themselves, only mentioning news of the others. They were quiet for a while as they ate, both of them taking time to absorb the new information.

She looked at him and took another sip of beer, dying to know how he had been in the past few months. She understood that he might not want to talk about it, but she really wanted to know if he was ok. She asked, "So . . . how are you?"

"What?"

"You mentioned Callie, Arizona, Kepner, Avery, Bailey, Alex, and almost everyone, but you never talk about yourself. So, how are you?" She gave him the onceover and commented, "You look leaner. Did you lose weight?"

"I have been working out." His lips curled into a satisfied smile, obviously pleased that she had noticed the changes in his body. "I'm fine."

"Mer said that you work a lot."

"Yeah," he said, "I guess I did." She titled her head at a quizzical angle, waiting for him to continue. He thought about it for a moment and later said, "You know how that it's always cloudy in Seattle? That's how I felt most days. Gloomy. Dark."

"It's cold here in Zurich."

"I felt that the darkness just came back after you left. Or maybe it had always been there. And suddenly I find myself sitting in my office, desperately trying to make something happen. I needed something good to happen." In all honesty, he didn't want to talk about it. Warding off her next question, he shifted the focus to her. "What about you? Are you happy here?"

She noted the change of subject but followed the lead. "Do I look happy?"

"I think you are."

"I think so. You know I'm happy in the OR."

He laughed and nodded. "I know." He took her hand in his and squeezed it, encouraging her to go on.

"I'm happy in my lab. It is so good to have your own printer. No more sharing and fighting for printer. And I don't have to worry if my research gets cut because of funding."

"You don't depend on state funding, right?"

"Yup." Her face glowed as she spoke, and Owen found himself completely mesmerized. "Oh, I get to travel too. This is great, I guess, but sometimes I find myself completely off the timeframe of my research. And that sucks. Unless it's flying out for a mind blowing surgery. That's awesome." She reached for her beer before continuing, "And I absolutely hate administrative duties. You know how annoying it can get, but it's part of the package."

She let out a sigh, and took a long swig from her beer bottle. He had the sense that she was not done yet, and so he sipped his beer and waited for her to continue. When she started talking again, her face fell. "Do you think there is a line between all the good things and whatever there is on the other side? Because things get weird once I leave the hospital. It's like all the thrills and rush only stay in the hospital. Once I step out of the hospital, everything just . . . goes away. It all disappears and only leaves a kind of odd feeling that lingers everywhere. Literally everywhere. The street, my apartment. Everywhere except the hospital." She had never told anyone about this, not even Meredith, but with Owen by her side, she felt so at ease that she could just spill everything on her mind and he would understand. And she was right.

"You feel empty."

"Yeah, I think so. You actually manage to put a word on it! I think something is missing, but I can't find it. I don't even know what it is. I just . . ."

As she trailed off, he finished her thought for her. "And you just try to keep yourself occupied and keep coming back to the hospital and work so that you won't be reminded of the gaping hole." She nodded in silence. He continued, "I know that feeling. Because that's exactly what I felt for the last three months."

A heavy silence fell, as Cristina reflected that somehow she was the one that caused it. Wanting to ease the atmosphere, he decided to change the subject. "Does that place really serve great lasagna? Because I'd totally have to try it if that's true."

"Yes, it's good. But to be honest, nothing can compare with the one you make."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? I am flattered. You know what, I can go over to your place to cook, but I guess I would have to go to the grocery first. Right?"

She rolled her eyes and said, "I have a fridge at home with real food, you know."

That made him chuckle. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Work. Surgery. You?"

"Another meeting with Dr. Gardner."

"What about the day after tomorrow? I think I can take the day off."

"I should be free that day."

"Good, good." said Cristina. "We should go somewhere."

"Where?"

She pondered his question. Later, toying with the hem of her sleeve, she said slowly, "Maybe the lake? Everyone goes to the lake. Or museums. I don't know, I am not really sure about that." Seeing that his mouth hung open in surprise, she quickly added with a dismissive wave of her hand, "But I'll find out. Don't worry."

"But Cristina, you have been here for like, three months?"

"Yes, I guess?"

"Shouldn't you know these things by now?" said Owen, his face a mask of disbelief.

"But it's been ONLY three months!" She defended herself, emphasizing the word 'only'. "And I travel a lot, remember?" Cristina giggled as he opened his mouth to say something then closed his mouth again without a word, struggling to suppress her laughter.

"I don't know what to say, Cristina." He looked at her, his tone mock serious, "Did you make friends?"

"Now you sound exactly like my mother." Nodding slowly, she said, "And yes, I made friends. Should I invite them home some time?"

They both burst into laughter, and it felt so amazing—he always made her feel safe to laugh. It was at that moment when they finally realized that the search was over. They had found the missing piece. It wasn't an award, a title, or another successful surgery. It was simply a person to laugh together.

* * *

"Oh crap. That's your cab." She said, momentarily blanked. "You are walking too slowly."

After some more talking and eating, they had left the hospital after midnight. Owen arched an eyebrow at her remark. "No, you are the one who insisted stopping for ice cream."

"Because there aren't many ice cream shops that open 24/7! This is me showing you local attractions in Zurich." She elbowed him playfully in the ribs and he pretended to beg for mercy. "And had you walked faster, we could've made it home before your cab was here! You'd have time to come up."

"Do you want me to tell him to go?"

"No. He won't understand a word of your crappy German. It's ok. I'll just tell him to wait for a while. We should take things slow, right?"

"Anything you want, my lady." He teased.

He laughed as she rolled her eyes, "Stop it, Owen Hunt." She started towards the cab and talked to the driver. After a moment, she walked back to him, a victorious smile on her face. "He's ok with waiting." She said, and leaned forward to kiss him.

"So I'll see you the day after tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Ok, this is gonna sound really desperate, but . . . call me. Ok?"

"Ok." He said before she could say anything else, "And it's not desperate. And even if you don't ask me to, I will still call you."

"Good," she leaned forward to kiss him. "See you."

"Ok. See you."

A light breeze rippled through her hair, and he smiled as he watched her trying to collect the strands into a loose ponytail. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her, thoroughly enjoying how the third day of his trip had turned out, silently looking forward to more days like this. It was definitely a day to remember.

* * *

As the traffic light turned red, the cab driver pulled the handbrake and looked at Owen in the rearview mirror. "First date?"

"Not really . . . but you know what, actually, yes, the first one in Zurich."

"Ah ha, you should be prepared for more. From what I see, she is really into you." He laughed before turning his attention back to the road, preparing to press the gas pedal the second the traffic light turned green.

Owen took a moment to think about his comments. "Yeah, I hope so too." He said quietly, mostly to himself, "I really like her."

He casually checked his mailbox and found an e-mail from an unexpected sender. He read the e-mail quickly and was utterly shocked. He had prayed for good things to happen, but he just didn't understand why they all happened at the same time.

* * *

**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Hope you guys enjoy it! xx**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

"Hey. It's me." He called her as he promised, the first thing he did at his hotel. He had pretty much calmed down in the cab, but somehow talking to her helped him to temporarily forget about the e-mail.

"Hey, that's fast!"

"Yeah, I know right?" he said, "So, what are you doing?"

They talked, until she fell asleep. He didn't tell her about the e-mail on the phone despite knowing that they needed to discuss it at some point. He was still thinking about it over and over again after getting off the phone, until his mind drifted to sleep.

The next day, Cristina spent her morning in the O.R and stayed in her lab in the afternoon while Owen visited USZ. They didn't make plans to meet up that day but they did make a point to stay in touch, even though Cristina hated texting. She was leaving the hospital when she spotted him sitting in the lobby. Genuinely shocked and surprised, the corner of her lips curled up into a smile as she walked towards him.

"You bought snacks!" She said, noticing the brown paper bag in his hand.

"Yeah," he as she reached for the paper bag, disappointment etched on her face after she opened it. Laughing sheepishly, he explained, "and that's all that left."

"Fine. Let's go get something. I'm starving."

They hung out at a bistro nearby Owen's hotel. She could only recall that they were drinking and were a little tipsy and might have made out furiously at one corner, but she couldn't really remember the details. She figured that as exhaustion caught up with her, they left the bistro and she went back to her place. But why didn't she just crash at his place? She wondered.

Then, she remembered why. Because she couldn't go hiking like that, with skirts and high heels. _Hiking. _

She wanted to just lie on her bed. She could feel the comfort and warmth of her bed luring her to come back, but she had promised Owen a trip in Zurich. She suddenly regretted agreeing to his plan. As the one staying in Zurich, she was supposed to be the host and the one planning their trip; but now, he wanted to go to the mountain. Freaking mountain, and not to mention that he wanted to hike instead of taking the train. Could you believe that Cristina Yang was hiking? She couldn't believe that either.

They met at the hotel lobby and were having breakfast before starting their trip. "I can't believe that we are doing this." She said, for the hundredth time that day.

"It's an easy hike."

She shook her head. "Still not gonna change the fact that we are hiking."

"The view up there would be spectacular. It will all worth it." He assured her repeatedly, but it didn't make her feel better.

"Really? Who said that? Some reviewers on TripAdvisor?"

"Yes."

"I want to kill them." She cut her sausages furiously, and it made Owen wonder if she was seeing his face on the sausage. "We are taking the train down. Deal?"

"Ok." He kept assuring her that it would be great, but she had no idea why he wanted to go there, until she reached the place and took in the view. He was right.

The view on the mountaintop was indeed spectacular. It was picturesque, the exact replica of the postcards Alicia had bought for her. The mountain wasn't crowded that day, so they brought sandwiches to the observatory deck, making small talk between bites as they enjoyed the beautiful view of the city. On the way up, the greenery offered a kind of serenity and peace that made her felt like she and Owen were getting lost in the forest, away from all the hustle and bustle of the city. In a way, it was a vent, except that it had fresh air and trees and flowers. They both felt truly relaxed the moment they were surrounded by trees that were at least ten times older than them, and it made them forget all the crappy things in their lives for a while.

And then, there came the part that she was excited the most—a visit to the Old Crow. The bar was a hidden gem of the city, and she wished that she had discovered it earlier. The bourbon here was to die for. If Owen hadn't insisted on leaving, she would have stayed here until the bar closed.

The bar kind of reminded her of Joe's. Watching Owen sipping his single malt scotch, a sudden realization hit her that everything had changed. She wished that she could travel back in time and go back to Seattle and just have a drink with her friends. She missed George, and Izzie—sometimes, she would wonder how Izzie was doing. Was she still practicing medicine? Was she cancer-free now? She wished that they were still in touch. They had been through so much together that they should at least be friends on Facebook. She missed the time when they were just interns, and back then, she never thought that their usual drinking sessions after work would one day become a gathering that could never happen. Joe's carried so much of their memories, and she wanted that life back.

"You ready to go?" Owen's question broke her daydream, bringing her back to this hidden bar in Zurich.

"No," she finished her drink and announced, "Another round."

"But Cristina, we have to go now."

"Just one last one? Please?" She pleaded, putting on her best sad eyes.

"Fine," he laughed at the expression on her face, "just one more."

She smirked victoriously and ordered another one. "I always knew that'd work."

He watched her order another round effortlessly and asked, "How is your German so good? I mean, you've only been here for three months. I don't remember you taking any classes in Seattle."

"I majored in French literature in college, Owen Hunt. I am talented in languages."

He was about to say something when their drinks arrived, and they settled back into their own thoughts. Cristina knew that as much as she wanted to go back, she couldn't. She was meant to be in Zurich at that moment. Her life was here now, and she couldn't just give up everything and go back to Seattle like she did last time.

And with Owen here, Zurich was not that bad either, she thought.

Later, as they strolled down the streets of the old town, she realized how fast-paced the last few months had been. Like Owen said, she walked really fast. Being with him forced her to slow down, and it turned out that he knew the city better than her. Travelling with Owen was easy. He planned the schedule, read the map, and he knew where to get the good stuff, i.e. booze and chocolate. Of course, there were moments when Cristina couldn't help wondering why on earth they had to come here, and there were moments when they sat on a bench, united in misery, two of them lost in the middle of nowhere; but all in all, she liked it.

As they took another turn, they discovered another quiet alley that was beautiful in its own way. She rolled her eyes as she watched him take another touristy photo with his camera, but a thought quietly rooted itself in her head: she wanted to travel the world with him.

* * *

The sun dropped below the horizon, and the light painted the lake a sparkling gold. After taking a walk by the lake, accompanied by a comfortable silence and breathtaking scenery, they settled at a restaurant overlooking the lake. Between sips of wine, they quickly lapsed into a casual conversation.

"So, how was your meeting yesterday?" asked Cristina.

Owen nodded and grinned excitedly without a word, which made her raise an eyebrow.

"I see. Did they make their offer?"

"Yes, they did."

"Is it good?"

"Yes." Owen said. "Very attractive, in fact."

"I'm happy for you." She leaned forward and gave him a quick perk on the lips. "You are a good surgeon. You deserve that."

"Thank you. But . . ." With his gaze on the plate, his mouth opened and closed, as if he didn't know how to get the words out. "I'm not really sure what I should do with it."

"Why?"

He paused for a moment, thinking if this was the right moment for him to tell her about that. Would this piece of news ruin the rest of his trip? Would it be better if he only told her about it after he went back to Seattle? One of the most reliable voices in his head was screaming for him to tell her about the e-mail, and in the end, he complied.

"Teddy asked me to join her." He looked up, meeting her brown eyes. "In Germany."

He studied her expression, but he couldn't tell what she was thinking except the flicker of disappointment that flashed across her face before she quickly hid it with a smile. She felt a lump form in her throat, but she managed to swallow it and reached for her wine.

"That's great!" She heard herself say, "We should make a toast. To Owen."

Their glasses clinked and Cristina gulped down her wine, but nonetheless failed to drown the sinking feeling in her chest. Supposedly, this was a good news and she should be a happy for him, but deep down, a part of her did not find this a great piece of news. She knew it, and so did he.

* * *

**NOTE: Hi guys! I know it's been a while and I'm really sorry for that but I hope you like this! This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Anyway, I just want to say that I have not been to Zurich and all the descriptions above are entirely based on my imagination and reviews on TripAdvisor and travel blogs. Please let me know if there's any mistake and once again, thank you for reading! xx**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

He could feel her distancing herself for the rest of the night.

They were on the way back to her apartment. She fixed her eyes on the ground, but even in the dark, she could feel Owen appraising her. She ignored it, keeping her head low. She was silently debating about what she should do next. She wanted to be alone, but she knew that his time in Zurich was ending soon. She really shouldn't waste her time sulking in the apartment.

They stopped as they reached their destination, neither knew what to do next, but she had made up her mind. She gestured him to come up; he hesitated a little, but followed her nevertheless. Their journey up the stairs was a quiet one, their heavy footsteps echoing in the small compartment. Her keys jingled in her bag as she fished for it, and all the while, he couldn't stop wondering what was in her mind.

The door swung shut behind them. He took his time surveying the new surroundings, noticing a pleasant hominess, a perfectly cozy apartment.

"Coffee? Tea? Water? Or beer?" she offered.

"Just water. Thanks." He replied, sensing the invisible wall between them again.

He settled on the couch and watched as Cristina poured herself a large glass of wine. She passed him the water and sat on the other end; she took a swig of her wine and drew her knees up to her chin and sat thinking.

It was quiet. He knew that she was upset, but he didn't push it. He waited.

"You have a very nice apartment."

"Thank you. It's my mom."

"Yeah. I know."

Silence washed in again. She fixed her gaze on the table, wrapped up in her own thoughts.

"Cristina . . ." he said, breaking the silence. "What's going on? Talk to me. Please."

She shook her head, her ebony curls brushing her face. He moved to the middle of the couch and leaned forward to brush a loose strand out of her face. "It's ok. Just talk to me when you're ready."

He sat back and waited. Minutes passed. He waited; and suddenly, she brought one hand to her face and began to sob, her shoulders trembling. He inched closer and pulled her into his arms, ignoring her futile fight. Wet hot tears on his shirt, he kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back softly, and waited. She said something in a muffled voice, followed by more sobs.

"Cristina, I can't hear you when you're talking to my shirt."

She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy. "I don't want you to go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

She stared off into space, but her sobs did not stop. "I don't want you to go to Germany . . ."

His heart sank. He stroked her hair mindlessly, and silence fell. He was lost for words, because he didn't know what to do. He really had no idea.

* * *

She woke up in the middle of the night, alone on her bed. Disoriented and confused, she went to the kitchen to get herself some water. She noticed a familiar figure on her couch and she remembered. They had had such a good day together . . . until he mentioned Germany. But that still didn't change the fact that she'd had a good day, and she didn't want it to end.

She sipped her water and watched him, thinking if she should wake him, because, he really shouldn't be sleeping on the couch. She set her glass on the table, a little too loud and the clinking sound stirred him.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"It's ok." He rubbed his eyes tiredly and checked his watch.

"It's three in the morning."

"I should probably get back to my hotel . . ." He propped himself up and made room for her on the couch. He stifled a yawn and asked, "Just want to make sure that you are ok. You good?"

"Yes, I'm feeling better now."

"Ok. I should get going now."

He tried to stand up but she had already grabbed his neck and pulled him closer. Their lips met, "No," she said, "stay." She kissed him again, this time more urgently and deeply. He kissed her back and in a matter of seconds, they both got lost in each other.

* * *

Coffee.

Her apartment smelled like coffee.

She walked to the kitchen, and there he was, brewing a pot of hot, glorious caffeine. She smiled. She liked the idea of waking up to the smell of coffee and him. She moved through the room and wrapped her hand around his waist, resting her head on his back, and for a moment, she forgot about Teddy and Germany and her days of waking up to an empty apartment. "Hey."

"Good morning." He turned round and held her in his arms. "Coffee?"

"Hmmmm. Thank you."

He passed her the coffee. She finished it in one gulp, then lay on his chest with her eyes closed. Her face looked so peaceful and stress free, like a child, and it made him forget what he had to say. They stayed like that for a moment until he began, "Cristina?"

"Hmmm?"

"Listen, about what happened last night . . . I just want to tell you that I don't know anything yet. I don't know where I should go or not go. I have no idea what I want to do yet, but I want you to know that you will be the first one to know once I make the decision. Right now, I just want to enjoy our time together. Ok?"

"Hmmmm." She nodded and said nothing more, which worried him. Only when she looked up and broke into a smile, he felt something clear inside, like the sun breaking through the mist. "Ok. But only we get breakfast first. I am starving."

"No problem." He asked, "Now what?"

"Shower?"

"Sounds good."

"And you're doing the walk of shame!"

* * *

Jules watched as they walked hand-in-hand into the konditorei.

"Good morning Dr. Hunt, Dr. Yang. How can I help you?"

He glanced over at her quickly before started ordering, "One hot latte, one long black, and . . ." He trailed off, and she finished his words, "Two big breakfasts please. Thank you." Cristina looked at Owen and whispered, "They serve the best breakfast. My favorite."

They shared a laughter as they walked toward a table next to the window, the same one they sat three days ago. Jules couldn't help noticing that they both look much happier, and definitely more refreshed. _All you need is love_, she thought, _and more coffee_.

* * *

Cristina was lying on her bed, reading the latest American Journal of Medicine, while Owen was deep in his trance. He was thinking about Germany. Feeling his gaze on her, she looked up and met his eyes. "What?"

"How far is it from Landstuhl to Zurich?"

"Five to six hours by train, I guess."

"Oh." She waited for him to say more, but he didn't. She put down her journal and snuggled up his neck. "You know, you don't have to choose Zurich because of me. Landstuhl is fine. Or you can stay in Seattle if you want."

"Stop lying, Cristina."

"Fine. I want you here. But I will respect your choice, and we will find a way to make things work no matter where you are. Right?"

He played with her curls absentmindedly. "Yeah."

They stayed like that for a moment until an idea occurred to Cristina. "Maybe you should make a list. It works for me. Smith or Amherst. Stanford or Columbia. Blah blah blah."

"So I should make one of Landstuhl vs Zurich vs Seattle?"

"That's right." she said and grabbed the pencil and papers on her nightstand. "Ok. What do you have in Landstuhl?"

"Army. Being in action. For the country."

"Ok. Zurich?"

"Lab. Research. Room to move up the ladder, I guess? And Cristina Yang."

She smiled. "Seattle: chief of surgery, your mother, your sister . . ." He nodded. A silence descended as they thought about the uncertainties in their life, until she decided, "Maybe you don't need the list. Just follow your gut."

"My guts told me to choose you." That put a smile on her face. Trying to change the subject, he continued, "You never considered Harvard?"

She cocked her head questioningly. "Are you trying to promote your school?" She went on without waiting for his answer. "I only applied to LAC in the east coast. Then I went back to California. My mother was so happy, you should have seen her face."

"Imagine if you had gone to Harvard . . ."

"You are thinking about what would happen if we had met earlier, in the before, aren't you?" He nodded. "You had Beth. We wouldn't happen."

"If you were in the picture, there would be no Beth."

She shrugged. "Well, maybe we did meet in Boston. Maybe we happened to be in the same mall at the same time, but we just walked past each other."

"Maybe you were too busy making out with your boyfriend to notice about me."

"No, I don't do that. Maybe you were busy catching bugs because Beth was so scared of them."

"No, there are no bugs in the mall." He laughed, "Funny isn't it, how all these work. How we meet different people at different phase of our life. How could you be missing for so long?"

"I don't know. Have you got the chocolate for your mom?"

"Not yet."

"Let's go get them tomorrow."

"Ok."

Cristina picked up her journal and continued reading, while Owen found himself drifting to sleep, thinking about his life at Boston. His life before the war. And how they would be if they had met in the before.

* * *

His trip to Zurich had reached an end. Somehow, Owen felt that the past week took on a strange cast. However, as a rule, time passed quickly; and he found himself standing before the departure gate in Zurich airport with Cristina on his arm, wondering how the hours had escaped him.

"I'm so glad that you came," she hugged him, giving him a tight squeeze. "Remind me to thank Gardner."

"Yeah, you should." He said, making her giggle, and he kissed her hair before whispering, "I'm glad that I came too. Promise me you will take good care of yourself ok?"

She gave a tiny nod and reached up to kiss him on the lips, and the kiss quickly turned passionate, neither of them wanted it to stop. In those hungry last kisses, she felt his yearning to stay, and his assurance that two of them would figure everything out together this time, no matter where they were; slowly but surely.

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**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Please leave a review! Your feedback and review mean a lot to me. Thank you for reading xx**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

**Day 1**

She hit the snooze button of her alarm clock and buried her head in the pillow. It almost felt as if she hadn't slept at all. After coming back from the airport, she had been greeted by the vast emptiness of her apartment, quiet and sad at the same time. Willing herself to ignore it, she'd had a glass of wine before going to bed as usual.

And that was the problem. Everything was falling back to the usual.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. She didn't want to get up, but the most rational voice in her head told her that she had to. She unwillingly removed herself from the comfort of her bed, clinging to her blanket.

Then, at that moment, she once again realized that she was alone in her big apartment. She could actually feel his absence, like a feeling you got when you walked around in your sports shoes without wearing socks. You know it should be there, but it's not.

Her bed still smelled like him, and one of his t-shirts was still sitting in her laundry basket, but he was not there. She was alone. No more fighting for the bathroom in the morning. She would have to brew her own coffee and eat her cereal on her own.

She should have gotten used to all this. In fact, she had, but that was when he had come back into her life again, making all her habits crumble. Now, she felt sad that she was alone, and she felt sad for feeling sad that she was alone.

She took another deep breath and forced herself to wake up. It was time to get to work. It was time to learn to do things alone again.

* * *

He stepped into the trailer. Just like three months ago, it still smelled like her, but he wasn't sure if the scent came from his shirt or the trailer. Everything still looked the same, except that it was different now.

He texted her and took a shower and passed out on his bed. He was exhausted, but it was the good kind of exhaustion. The happy, contented kind.

He slept through the day.

* * *

He's probably sleeping, she figured. That's what she always did when she came home after a long, tiring flight. He had texted her that he was back in the trailer, and although it had barely been 24 hours, she already missed him.

_I will get used to it,_ she told herself. _I will._

Sighing, she took another report and started reading. Just another day at work.

* * *

**NOTE: HEY GUYS IM BACK! I am so sorry for not updating the story for such a long time but now I promise I will update more frequently - probably everyday? Haha stay tuned! And please do not hesitate to leave your reviews on this chapter! :) Thank you for reading and this chapter is beta-ed by Eliza.**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 2**

The clock next to her bed showed that it was 2:41a.m. She needed to get up in another 2 hours 19 minutes. She had been tossing and turning on her bed for hours, trying and failing to sleep. Clinging to his pillow like a koala, she breathed in the remaining scent, missing his warmth and his company.

She needed to sleep, but she couldn't quiet her mind. And right now, her mind decided to start pondering if people were pieces of land drifting in a vast space, and relationships were just lands bound together by an unknown force as they come and go.

Cristina thought about her past. High school was a big, fat mess. How _do_ people marry their high school sweetheart? She wondered. She could barely remember who she went to the prom with—she didn't want to go but her mom had made her—let alone her classmates. Knowing very clearly that she needed to get into a good college, she was focused, determined, and surely wouldn't let things like that distract her. And maybe that's why she could barely remember what happened in high school, which was a little sad, now that she thought about it.

Then, she went to Smith, and there was her chemistry TA. Their mutual interest in atoms and molecules brought them together, but in a way, it led them apart too. It ended when he left Smith to do his PhD at God-knows-where; it's been too long for her to remember. Was it Caltech? Or Chicago? She had no idea. They didn't stay in touch after he left, he was not her friend on Facebook, and it had all just become another forgotten atom in the massive universe.

Colin Marlow. She scowled as she thought about him. The renowned cardiothoracic surgeon, her professor, the one who could always find a mistake in everything. Even if she managed to win ten Harper Avery awards, he would still have something to criticize her about when they met. Their relationship was built entirely on her thirst to learn and his intention to have someone presentable by his side, someone with beauty and brains, and who would not embarrass him once she opened her mouth. She knew very well that she was exactly what his ego needed, that in the relationship, they would never be on an equal level, and she would always be the suppressed and feeble one. And no, Cristina Yang would not live a life like that, and so she ended it, knowing that he would find another young med student to satisfy his ego.

For a very long time, Burke meant something. She had meant it when she said yes, and she was ready to spend the rest of her life with him. She was ready to walk down the aisle, though in the end she didn't have to. After that incident, she often found herself reflecting on the time they were together, trying to find her mistake, wondering what she could do to fix it. Was it because she was too ambitious? Too career driven? But that was the way she was. Thinking about it, if they had gone through with the wedding, she would have continued to let him take pieces of her, until one day, she wasn't Cristina anymore, but merely a famous surgeon's wife.

But thank God, the wedding was called off, though embarrassingly, or else she wouldn't have met Owen. Maybe this was what people called a blessing in disguise. Or maybe that night in the trauma room would still happen, just that things were going to be a little complicated among Cristina and Owen and Burke, because if it's meant to be, it would be. He was the one. She shuddered at the cheesy thought but still, thinking of him, of them, she smiled. They had been through so much together, and every time they just kept coming back to each other. If that's not a sign, what else is? Nothing could tear them apart, not a stupid plane crash, not a stupid misunderstanding over the purchase of the hospital, and absolutely not the distance.

She had never done long distance—probably due to her lack of faith in her past relationships—and to be honest, it was scary as hell. She wondered how things were going to turn out this time. It's definitely going to be complicated—they had always been complicated—but she was sure that they would have their forty years. On that night, she was sure.

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**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Thank you for reading! xx**


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 3**

A light tap on the door momentarily took his attention away from the paper he was reading. "Come in." said Owen. The amount of paper work piling up during his week away was incredulous. Meredith Grey walked into the chief's room, adding another file on the pile of documents on his desk. "Thank you, Dr. Grey."

"No problem. How was your trip?"

"Fine." She titled her head a little questioningly, and he added, "No, actually, it was great." He smiled, contented.

"That's good! So, you guys sorted things out?"

"Yes, we did. I guess."

"Good, good. I'm just going to leave you with all the papers. Good luck with that."

They laughed. He answered, "Ok. Thank you, again. You know, for making me go to Zurich."

"No problem. Don't mention it." She walked towards the door, but stopped halfway in her track. Owen lifted his head and looked at the doctor who froze in front of his office door.

"Dr. Grey?"

She turned round and faced the other doctor. "Cristina never told me on the phone, but I know something's off with her. I just have the feeling. Yes, everything she has ever wanted is at Zurich, but not everything. She is happy, but at the same time she is not. And you are not quite yourself too after she left. So, I'm really glad that you two work things out."

He listened to her words quietly, his expression softened. "Yeah. She told me. Thank you . . . for looking out for her. You know what I mean. Thank you."

She smiled and left the room. The door swung shut behind her, and thinking about Cristina and Zurich, he smiled.

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**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. It means a lot to me if you could leave a review before you go! Let me know what you think about this! :)  
**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy. **

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**Day 5**

The buzz of her phone brought her attention away from the report. She picked it up, and smiled as she read the message.

_-Hey damsel in distress. 6 years ;)_

She texted him back. _-lol you remember the icicle. I never really gave you the permission to remove it did I _

_-So? _

A grin crept across her face.

_-Bet you didn't see this coming when you kissed me _

_-Well, I did see us growing old together. Happy 6 years anniversary! _

Six years. She chuckled and shook her head. He could be such a dork sometimes.

* * *

**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Do stay tuned for a longer chapter! :D**


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 7**

"Owen!" said Evelyn, pulling her son to a tight embrace.

"Hey mom. How are you doing?" Owen asked, kissing Evelyn on her cheek. He handed his mother the chocolate and stepped inside the house he grew up at, taking a deep breath. He was home.

"Great! Your sister visited a few days ago, just before she went to Australia." Evelyn placed the chocolate on the dining table before turning round to face Owen. "Would you like some tea or coffee?"

"Coffee would be great . . . Let me help you, mom."

Owen walked to the kitchen with his mother and took out a jar of coffee beans from the overhead cabinet while Evelyn filled a pot of water. They went on in silence, both wrapped up in their own thoughts.

"Owen," they were waiting for the water to boil when he heard his mother called his name, "you look better."

"I'm fine, mom."

"So, how was your trip to Zurich?"

"It was great! I love the place." He paused and smiled as he thought about his trip. "Actually, Cristina picked that chocolate."

Evelyn's lips curled into a smile at that. "So, you met Cristina?" He nodded. "How is she doing?"

"Good. She is running a research center in Zurich with unlimited funding. She gets to fly people in from all over the world just to study hearts. It's pretty cool."

"Does she enjoy it?"

"Definitely. You know how passionate she is about her work."

"Is she happy that you two met?"

He thought about it. "I hope so."

"Are you?"

"Yes, I am." He smiled, reminiscing his week at Zurich.

"Does this mean you two are back together this time? For real?"

"For now, yes."

"I see." She pondered about it, and asked, "Then? In the future?"

He was hoping that his mother wouldn't go there but deep down, he knew that he couldn't hide anything from his mom. He paused for a moment, considering what to tell her. He sighed, "I don't know, mom."

"What's bothering you? Tell me, Owen."

"I love Cristina." He looked into his mother's blue eyes that they both shared, "I really do. She is the love of my life, but it's just that sometimes when I think about us, I feel . . . unsure. I don't know what will happen to us in the future. I think I'm having doubts. I don't know, I just can't tell anything about us now." Shaking his head slightly, he continued, "I used to think that we would be forever, you know? But I'm not so sure now. Not this time. I don't want to talk about it. It just feels like we are two totally opposite persons, like the North and South Pole, who happened to be in love. Maybe things will finally work out between us this time, or maybe not. Maybe we will break up again."

"And get back together again months later." said Evelyn.

He laughed a little. "And the cycle goes on until we die. So I don't know, mom."

They both sat quietly for a while, deep in their thoughts, until the sound of the water boiling broke the silence. Owen wanted to get up to make the coffee but his mother stopped him. Later, she brought each of them a cup of coffee. "Thanks mom," he said quietly.

She studied her son. "You are scared, Owen."

"What?"

"You are scared of thinking about the future. You are scared of imagining all the possibilities, because you are afraid that the past will repeat itself again. You are worried that you two will be caught in the cycle again, and that's why you don't think about it. Because you won't be disappointed if you don't have hope, am I right?"

He thought about it and nodded. "I think so. Maybe. I don't know."

"Denial won't get you anywhere, son." She went on, "What makes you think that you two are that different?"

"I want kids, she doesn't."

"And?"

"I don't know, mom. I'd rather not talk about that."

Ignoring his request, she sat up straighter and looked at her miserable son. "Because you two are pretty similar. Other than that, both of you are stubborn, passionate, cold on the outside but deep down you both are warm-hearted. You two are alike, and I think that you and Cristina will just keep coming back to each other. You know this is more than a casual vacation fling. So, you should think about it. The future."

"But mom, you do know that in order for things to work out, I might have to move away, right? I can't ask her to give up what she has at Zurich. I can't ask her to do that for me."

"I know." She looked at her son, and said, "I just want you to be happy. So if she makes you happy, you should do whatever you have to."

He smiled, grateful that he had his mother on his side. He leaned in and embraced his mom in a hug, like what he always did when he was a small kid. He whispered, "Thank you, mum. Thank you."

* * *

**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. I hope that you like this! Thanks for reading and please leave a review before you go xx**


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 12**

At five, she dragged herself to the konditorei, ordered her usual, just like usual, as if nothing had changed—except that everything had changed, right here, at this place. But something was off today, she thought as she drummed her fingers on the counter impatiently. What's taking her coffee so long?

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, Dr. Yang. Here's your coffee."

Cristina simply nodded and started making her way back to the hospital. Alicia was already waiting for her when she reached her office. She casually placed her coffee on the table and started listening as Alicia filled her in on her schedule for the following week. Alicia was briefing her on details about an upcoming fundraiser while she caught something on her paper napkin from the corner of her eye.

"Thank you, Alicia. I will think about it." She said and the moment Alicia walked out the door, she picked up the paper napkin. She frowned—why are there words on her napkin?

_Hey. Enjoy your coffee. Have a nice day O x_

She smiled, wondering why her long black was so sweet even though she didn't add any sugar.

* * *

**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Have a nice day x**


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

* * *

**Day 19**

It was an early Friday morning. The hospital was still and quiet, as patients were deep in their slumber while doctors tried to make full use of their very limited sleeping time. Young interns were dozing at nurses' counter, relying on caffeine to stay alert, but the chief of surgery was up and awake. He was on his phone, talking to Cristina in his office.

"Owen, what's the thing between you and Jules?"

He frowned. "What? Who?"

"Jules. The barista. Did you make her write something for me every day?"

"Yeah. You like it?"

"Uh huh. You haven't answered my question."

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Plus, I think she is into Theo. The other barista."

She gasped in mock surprise. "Owen Hunt! You are gossiping!"

"No, I'm just stating my observation." He chuckled. "Are you jealous?"

"No comment. Ha-ha. I'll let you get back to work."

He shook his head at her attempt to drop the subject. "Ok. You too. Don't work too hard. Take care."

"Uh huh."

"Please tell me that you are packing your bag, getting ready to go home?"

"Uh huh."

"Cristina! Are you heading to the OR, or your lab?"

"Uh no." A prolonged silence. "Are you still there?"

"Yes. I'm here. Just trying to find out the number of your office . . ."

Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Why?"

"To get someone to check if you are working too much."

"You can't do that!" She cried.

"Why not?"

"No!"

"Ok, so what are you doing now?"

She rolled her eyes, and began. "Dr. Owen Hunt, I'm sitting in my office, sipping my coffee while talking to you on phone. I am going to review some notes, and after I finish my coffee, I will pack my bag and go home to have dinner. Healthy, nutritious dinner; not cereal. Then, I will take a shower, and get ready for bed, and sleep for eight hours, as doctors recommend. I am going to sleep so well that you'd get really jealous as you pull an all-nighter in the ER." He chuckled and she went on. "See? Food. Rest. Sleep. A perfectly healthy lifestyle. I am capable of taking care of myself, ok?"

"I know. Just checking." He laughed. "I have to get to work now. Talk to you later."

"Ok. Love you."

Cristina took a sip of her coffee and smiled as she replayed the conversation in her head before continuing with her surgery notes. She froze momentarily when she recalled what she said before hanging up. She did not even realize that she had said it. It just . . . happened, spontaneously.

She smiled. It felt so natural, as if she's going to do the same thing for the thousand other phone calls in the next forty years.

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**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Your feedback means the world to me! :)**


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 28**

"How's Australia?"

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, the sky perfectly blue. It had been raining cats and dogs for the past week; today was one of the rarest days in Seattle when they could see the sun, so Abby had suggested bringing her kids to the park nearby their mother's place. And so Owen and his sister found themselves seated on a bench, watching the two little redheads playing their own game, a game that no one else understood, just like Owen and Abby back then when they were young.

"It was awesome. You would love it." They fell into silence as they watched the kids entertaining themselves. "So, how are you coping with your loss?"

"I'm fine, Abby." Owen rolled his eyes before going on. "And a gym membership? Seriously?"

"Well, I always tell my clients to sweat it out. It's worth one year, so don't waste it ok?"

"I'm not your client."

"Yeah, but you are my brother, and I have to look after you." She gave a little smile and paused for a moment. "So, when are you going to Zurich?"

The question sent him bolt upright in his seat. "Who told you that?"

"Mom. What? Why are you so . . ." she gestured with her hands wildly, trying to find the right word,"tense?"

"Nothing. Just surprised." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't know yet. I am not sure."

"I thought you've visited the hospital? And Mum told me that you like it. She is happy for you."

"I know," he sighed, "But Teddy asked me to join her too. It's what I hoped for when I desperately needed something good to happen, I just didn't expect it to happen now."

"Oh, so you are torn between Zurich and Germany now? What about Seattle?"

"That's also in the picture, but after everything that has happened here, I think I should move away."

She thought about that. "I hate to admit this, but you are right. Your hospital is pretty dangerous. It's like a magnet that attracts catastrophes. So, what's Zurich offering you?"

He took out his phone and showed her the e-mail. She quickly read through it and all she could say afterwards was, "Wow."

"I know."

"What are you still waiting for? I would definitely say yes to this. This is amazing!" She grinned and hugged him. "Ok, what about Germany?"

"It's not bad too, but . . ."

He trailed off and she finished his words. "But Zurich is better?" He nodded.

"So, go to Zurich! Go find Cristina!"

"But it's Teddy. She asked me to run the entire trauma department with her."

She shrugged. "Don't you get to do that at Zurich too?"

"Yeah, I do, but . . ."

"Hospitals don't give out free trips like that, you know."

"I know," Owen sighed, "you are not being helpful, Abby."

She took a moment to consider the situation seriously. "Remember the one time when Teddy came back to Seattle and you had a relapse?"

"PTSD doesn't really go away."

"I know. And . . ."

"It may become manageable, but . . ." He sighed, shaking his head, "you are not out of the woods."

"Yeah, I know. For God's sake, I'm a shrink!" She glared at him, daring him to say another word.

Owen let up his hands in surrender. "Ok, ok. I'm sorry. Please go on, Abby the shrink."

She rolled her eyes at him and continued. "Now, I know you are doing better this few years, many thanks to your shrink, also my amazing ex-colleague. But you'll have to get a new one when you go to Europe, which is totally not a problem because I know some people over there, so you don't have to worry about that."

"Get to the main point please, Abby."

She studied him—the same way Dr. Wyatt used to look at him—and it sent a chill down his spine. "You are going back to the army, Owen. And you will be working on injured soldiers, with bloods and guts and stuff like that. With Teddy. You have to understand that there will be a lot of triggers over there. Please consider about this when you are making your decision, Owen. Will you be fine, or will you sink back into the bottomless pit?"

Their conversation was cut short when the two kids started towards them, panting and dehydrated. What his sister said had got him thinking—was he really ready to go back to the Army? Was he ready to go back to that time of his life?

"Uncle Owen!"

"Hey Champ!" He laughed heartily and ruffled his nephew's hair as he leaped onto his lap, his own dilemma melting away for a while. Bathed with sunlight and the laugh of his family, he felt good.

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**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. So, Owen has a sister named Abby and she is a shrink! ;) Thank you for reading!**


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 35**

It had been a very long day in the hospital—she couldn't even remember the last time she was in her apartment—and now as she opened the doors, she felt exhaustion catching up with her. The adrenaline pumping in her body for the last 48 hours were slowly subsiding, and she was fatigued. Setting her keys on the table, her phone started ringing. She sighed. Owen.

She answered her phone. "Hey."

"Hi. Sorry I didn't call, I was in surgery just now."

"It's ok." She walked towards the kitchen and put her phone between her ear and shoulder and poured herself a glass of wine. She could really use some alcohol right now. The last 48 hours had been insane. What she had thought as a successful surgery had turned out exactly the opposite way, and she had gone back and forth between the CCU and the OR, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, until she didn't have to, as the patient flat-lined for the last time.

"Hello?"

"Yes. I'm still here."

"Is everything ok?"

"Yes. Everything is fine here."

He knew her good enough to know that she was lying. She was not ok. "Tell me, Cristina."

Silence. He could hear her breathing, and he waited. She slowly began, "I lost a patient. One of my promising clinical trial patients. I thought everything was going fine but it was not, and I didn't know that until everything turned terrible. And it was too late." She drew a long breath, and let it out slowly. "It was too late."

He paused for a moment to consider what to say. Or at least that's what Cristina thought he was doing. "I'm so sorry, Cristina."

Silence fell between them again. She didn't know how to answer him. She was tired. Tired of her big apartment. Tired of not seeing him. Tired that she could only have him on the phone, that she couldn't feel him in person.

It had been more than one month since he went back to Seattle, and it wasn't as easy as it seemed. Time zones always got in their way, and even though there were text messages, it eventually got bored when the person on the other side couldn't reply you because he was sleeping. The number of messages got less and less as days went by, and to her biggest fear, she got used to it. She got used to not talking to him, and that scared the crap out of her. There was once that she only realized that there had been nil communication between them for two days—they were both very busy doctors—when she was scrolling back the message history to find a link he shared to her. She couldn't help thinking that they were slowly drifting apart, that the distance between them was more than 5251 miles.

She knew that it was going to be hard. She knew, but she just didn't know that it was _this_ hard.

"Cristina? Are you still there?"

"Yes. Sorry." She closed her eyes and exhaled.

"Do you want to get some rest first? We can talk later."

"No." Because she knew that they probably won't. "How are Mer and Derek? Is he in DC now?"

"You guys don't talk?"

"No, I mean, yes, we still talk, but we don't talk about Derek and DC."

"Ok."

"Answer my question."

"I don't know. She seems fine."

"Ok." Silence. "Talk to me, Cristina. Tell me what happened. Please don't keep everything to yourself."

She sighed. "I'm tired."

"Ok." He waited for her continue, for he knew that she was not done.

"How do people do long distance? This is hard. I mean, Calculus is hard, but I nailed it. Meds school is hard, but I graduated first in my class. PhD is hard, but I survived. I have never said that things are hard. You know I don't." She paused. "But this is hard, Owen. This is hard."

"Cristina . . ." For a moment, he didn't know what to say, or how to assure her that things will get better. Words were simply not enough at this time; he would give everything he had to hold her in his arms, to let his actions do the talking.

"I just wish you were here."

"I want that too."

"I'm tired, Owen."

He huffed a breath. His voice was softer once he started talking again, almost like a whisper. "Please don't give up on us again, Cristina. Please."

She tried to stifle a sob, but failed, and more sobs followed. She croaked out, "I'm sorry, Owen, but it had been a very long day and I'm really tired. I'm sorry. Let's talk later. Bye." She hung up right away, turned off her phone and wiped away her tears with her bare hand. She reached for her wine and finished it in one gulp.

She really needed some time alone right now.

* * *

"I love you." He said into the phone, but the call was already disconnected. He sighed.

* * *

**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. A bit of a hiccup - but trust the journey! :)**

(omg do I sound like Shonda)


	20. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 37**

To her surprise, a parcel was sitting on her desk when she arrived at her office on Tuesday. It was from the United States, and from the scrawl on it, she knew that it's from him.

Smiling, she unpacked it and found a photo frame of their selfie on a random street at the Old Town. There were some other photos too, and among them were his shameless selfie on the mountain and a candid photo of her sipping on coffee, taken when they were having their breakfast.

The parcel came with a card. _–You won't ever be alone. Wait for me to come home._

She let out a breath, a little bothered to find that she was welling up. She's the boss, and the boss doesn't cry in the office. Quickly, She reached for her phone and texted him, managed to wrap all her emotions in two words. _-Thank you._

* * *

**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Your feedback and reviews are greatly appreciated! Thank you!**


	21. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 42**

Owen walked into his office with a big smile on his face. All the details of his new job had been finalized, the board had accepted his notice of resignation the day before, and he had had a good night's sleep. He felt a pang of sadness at the thought of how one phase of his life was beginning to end, but nevertheless he felt excited and thrilled at the prospect of the next chapter.

He was still deep in his own delight when the shrill sound of the phone pierced the air. He answered it immediately and to his confusion, a woman's voice shouted into the phone. "Owen Hunt! What in the world is wrong with you? Why wouldn't you say yes?"

"Teddy?"

"Yes, this is Teddy Altman. What's wrong with you? Why did you turn down the offer? I thought that's what you wanted?"

He scratched the back of his neck, thinking how he should explain everything to her. "Yes, back then. But not now."

She asked, "Why? What happened?"

He let out a breath. "It's a long story, Teddy."

"Spill. I want to know. I pitched your name and now that you have turned it down, I need to know why."

Knowing that she would not drop it, he confessed, "I am going to USZ."

"Zurich?"

"Yes."

"Ok." A pause. "Isn't Cristina there too?"

"That's right."

She giggled. "So, are you two back together? Because the last time I heard from you, she was about to go to Zurich and you were all sad and miserable and now I got you this and you are fine now?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry, Teddy. USZ needed a new trauma surgeon, so I went there for a trip. Then I ran into her, and . . . we talked."

"And?"

"We are good now. I guess. I'm very, very sorry, Teddy."

"Nah, it's no big deal. It's ok. I'm happy for you, Owen."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks Teddy. So . . . how are you? How are things going with you and Andrew?"

"I am good, thank you. Actually, that's also why I called." She paused for a moment to create suspense and announced, "I'm engaged."

"Wow. I . . . I . . ." Owen's mouth hung open, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. "Really? When?"

"Yesterday."

He laughed and shook his head. "Teddy Altman, I can't believe that you didn't call me right away."

"Time zones, Owen, time zones! You were sleeping!"

"You could have texted me!" They both laughed, and after the laughter stopped, Owen said, "I am happy for you. When's the wedding?"

"I'm not so sure about that yet, probably next year? Anyway we are going to have it at Germany, and it's going to be so convenient when you and Cristina are at Zurich. You can be my maid of honour!"

"Err no. But I can be your best man." A light tap on the door brought his attention back to the ER and a young resident poked his head into the chief's office, mouthing the word 'GSW'. Knowing that this was his sign to get off the phone, he said, "I have to go now, Teddy. GSW. Once again, congratulations."

"Well, congratulations to you too, Owen. Not the GSW, but you and Cristina, you know. I am still pissed that you turned the job offer down though. You are going to have to make it up in the future."

"Ha-ha, I will. Bye Teddy."

"Bye Owen."

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**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. I hope you like this! :)**


	22. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 47**

"So, have you started packing?"

She was sitting in her living room, her legs resting casually on the couch with Owen on the laptop screen in front of her. It was 8.00am in Zurich; 11.00pm in Seattle. She was having her breakfast—a box of cereal, as usual—while he was getting ready to sleep. Contrastingly, Cristina couldn't stop yawning while Owen was a bit too energetic for someone who had been working for ten hours.

He answered, "A little. Go back to bed."

"No. Not until you go to bed."

"But it's your off day, we can talk later?"

"No. I want to talk now."

"Ok. Ok." He smiled at her stubbornness. "What are you doing today?"

"I don't know. I'm eating cereal now." She waved her box of cereal at him.

"I can see that."

"You look so hyper. I don't think you need to sleep."

"I know. I have tomorrow off too, so . . . we can stay up all night long?" He grinned.

"I know what you want to do, Owen Hunt." She said with a smirk on her face. "Hold on, I need to get a glass of water."

And so she left the screen. Since Owen had nothing else to do, he looked around her living room_. Relax, it's clean_. Cristina had hired a home cleaning service in Zurich. Whenever they talked on Skype, he always tried to see if she had made any changes to her place, like a new picture or a new sofa slipcover. There was once when he saw his selfie sitting on the end table next to her couch and it was so awkward because he kept noticing two split images of himself on the screen when he talked to Cristina that he had to ask her to sit at somewhere else. This time, he spotted a colourful drawing on the table. It looked like a thank you card—it was too far away for him to see clearly—and it didn't seem like Cristina's drawing. Did she even draw? He wondered. It definitely didn't look like medical related stuff, and he made a note to ask her later.

"I'm back!" She announced, sitting back in front of her laptop.

"Hey. What's that next to your couch?"

She turned round to pick up the piece of paper. "You mean this?" He nodded.

"Oh, this . . ." she stammered a little, "uhm, this is a drawing by a kid." He looked at her as she considered what to say next, waiting for her to go on. "Not my secret kid. For the record, I don't have any secret kid. You are not thinking of that, right?" She glanced at him briefly before going on. "Anyway, this is from the child I sponsored. Jasmine. A girl, obviously, from China, and she is seven this year. She drew this to thank me for the sponsorship. Cute, right? She writes to me from time to time. This is the latest one."

"Yes, that's cute . . . but since when? I didn't know this."

She took a moment to think about it. "I don't know, four or five years ago?"

He did the calculation in his head and roughly knew when. It was when that happened; something that will always bring a twinge of pain to his heart whenever he thought about it, no matter how long it had been. But it was all in the past, he told himself. They couldn't keep clinging to old memories, no matter good or bad, and stop forming new ones. After all, they had to move on, didn't they?

"Hey, you ok?" She asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Of course. Uhm, Cristina, can you send me the link to the sponsorship?"

"Ok sure. I will. What now?"

"Let's see . . . I have to pick the next chief."

Her face lit up at the smell of gossip. "And who will that be?"

"I don't know. My job is just to make a list and give it to the board. Richard will step in to be the interim chief after I left and it will be entirely the board's decision. You know, interview and presentation and things like that."

"Ugh, I hated that. It was boring."

"I know. It's a bit early to tell who the next chief is right now, but it could be Bailey, I guess?"

"Ah, the Nazi." She chuckled. "That'd be fun."

"I know, right?"

He yawned. She said, "Go to bed. We can talk later."

"No."

"Now who's the stubborn one?"

They both laughed, and later, the light at Owen's trailer only went out at 3a.m. Talking on Skype definitely couldn't compare with talking in person, but at this moment, this was what they had to settle for. Nevertheless, they both knew that they would be together in no time—they just had to be patient.

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**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Please leave me a review before you go! Thank you! xx**


	23. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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**Day 60**

Two days before he left, he cleared out his trailer and went to Derek's place to return the keys, when he was surprised with a farewell party thrown by his friends. It was not big, only attended by their close friends—Derek, Meredith, Callie, Arizona, Jackson, April, Alex, Jo, Bailey and Richard—but it was more than enough. Meredith had jokingly suggested that since both Cristina and Owen were going to be at Switzerland, it was time to send all the kids to a Swiss boarding school so that they could all go back to their childfree life again. Owen laughed and Callie nodded in agreement while Derek and Arizona's jaws hung open simultaneously, both of them shocked at the bold suggestion. All in all, it was a pleasant and enjoyable night to Owen. Although when Owen first came to the hospital, he was sceptical about the hospital's blurred line between working and personal life, he was grateful that he had made good friends here, and his time at GSMH had been something more than just a working experience he could add to his resume.

After the dinner, he travelled to his mother's place, spending the last two days of his time at Seattle with his mother. He fixed the leaking pipe that Evelyn had asked him to quite some time ago, and at his insistence, he went grocery shopping with his mother, stocking up on daily use items and the fridge for her. To be honest, he was feeling a little guilty that he couldn't spend more time with his mother, but Evelyn had reassured him that everything would be fine here at Seattle and she would expect a trip to Europe anytime soon. On his last day at Seattle, his sister, Abby joined them for dinner at his mother's place and Evelyn had cooked some of Owen's favorite food, which he knew he would deeply miss.

At nine o' clock in the next morning, a cab pulled up in front of the house. Owen loaded his luggage in the car and bade farewell to his family. He hugged his sister, and apologized, "I'm so sorry, Abby. The gym membership is not transferrable."

"It's ok, Owen." They laughed. "I'm glad that you are happy."

"Take care of mum ok."

"Ok, I will."

"And just let me know when you decide to ship the two monkeys to a Swiss boarding school."

She laughed and nodded, "Ok. Love you."

"Love you too." Owen pulled away and then enveloped his mother into a big hug. "Take care, mum. And I'm sorry that I'm leaving Seattle again."

"How many do I need to tell you this, Owen? It's ok. Stop apologizing. Go and find Cristina and be happy."

"Ok, Mom, I will. You can come visit me whenever you want. Just let me know."

Abby chimed in. "What about me? I could use a free trip to Europe too."

"Shut up, Abby, your husband can pay for it."

Despite that they all laughed, Owen couldn't shake away the heavy feeling in his chest. After saying goodbye to his family for one last time, he got into the cab and waved at his family until the cab rounded a corner and he couldn't see them anymore.

It was time for a fresh start.

* * *

Standing in front of the airport gate, Owen glanced over his shoulder and looked around the place for the last time.

This was the place he grew up.

This was the place he picked himself up in the after.

This was the place he found the love of his life.

And now, he's ready to start a new adventure.

He was ready.

* * *

**_Zürich Kloten Airport, Zurich, Switzerland_**

After almost 12 hours on board and a 2 hours transit at Frankfurt, Owen had finally arrived at his destination. After claiming his baggage, he walked out into the arrival area and was greeted by an efficient and clean ambience.

Owen looked around the airport, a little annoyed by himself that he didn't charge his power bank beforehand and now he was standing there with a dead phone and a charger that would not work without an adapter. His heart did a little flip when a woman with wild ebony curls came into sight—but it wasn't Cristina. Disappointed, he walked towards the taxi counter.

He was trying to find a phone to call Cristina when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned round and there she was, standing in front of him.

"Welcome to Switzerland. It's very neutral here and they make nice watches." said Cristina matter-of-factly.

He chuckled and pulled her into his arm. She wrapped her arm around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. When they finally pulled away, gasping for air, she looked into his eyes and said, "Hey there now."

"Hey there now."

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**NOTE: This chapter is beta-ed by Eliza. Thank you for reading! And this is not the end - stay tuned for the epilogue! CROWEN FOREVER! xx**


	24. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy.**

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Her heart rate was skyrocketing, her hands were sweating, and she was on the verge of a panic attack. She could not do this. There was no way in the world that she could do this. The wall was closing up on her, and although she knew that it was merely her illusion, she could not breathe. She needed to get out of here—she had to.

"Relax, Cristina, everything is going to be fine." said Owen.

"How can you be so sure?" She snapped, "What if this plane crashes? I can't do this. I need to get off the plane."

Cristina and Owen were already seated at their seats and were waiting for the plane to take off. Watching the other passengers load their hand carry luggage onto the overhead compartment, all Cristina wanted to do was to dash for the exit. She was clinging to the armrest like her lifeline depended on it, and even after having three tequila shots and two glasses of champagne, she was still tensed up and anxious. It was a snowy December; the snow falling straight and steadily from the sky without wind, and a part of her hoped that her flight would be cancelled due to the weather.

A few weeks ago, Cristina had received an invitation to perform a surgery at Seattle and Owen had taken the opportunity to talk her into taking a year end break, so here they were, sitting on a plane, bracing themselves for the long hours ahead. This was their first time flying back to the United States after moving to Zurich about three months ago. They had planned to spend Christmas at Seattle with Evelyn and their friends from the hospital, and would fly to Los Angeles later to join Helen and Saul—if Cristina was up for it, because right now, she thought that flying was a pretty bad idea. They should drive. If she could drive all the way from Zurich to Seattle, she would.

"It won't. Even if it does, I'm here with you."

"Really? What if you die and I'm alone?" She sat back in her seat and continued. "Oh my God. What if I am stranded on the sea? I don't want to be like that guy in Life of Pi. Oh my God."

"That's not going to happen." He reassured her, "It's not going to happen. We will be fine."

"Why are you so sure? What if there's a really bad turbulence and the plane crashed?"

"I believe that the pilots would try their best to avoid that. No one likes turbulence. Just keep your seatbelt fastened."

"Of course! Oh my God. Why would anyone unfasten their seat belt? I can't believe that we are on a plane now. I can't do this. I need to get out of here."

"Just think of the ground breaking surgery you get to do at Seattle."

"That's not helping. I can get them to fly him here."

"No. You tried, remember? They said he is too unstable for transfer."

Cristina thought about it and gave in. "Fine. You do know how to make fire, right?"

"Absolutely. I am well trained."

"Can you make fire without a match?"

"Yes. Learned that in the army. Don't worry."

"Ok," she said, "ok." She said again, this time mostly to herself. Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. He reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze.

"Owen?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she said, "you know, just in case the plane crashes."

"I love you too."

"Flight attendants please be seated for takeoff." She heard the captain said. Owen kissed her forehead and whispered, "We will be home soon. I promise."

She nodded. "Ok." He gave her a light peck on the lips and continued reading his magazine. With her eyes still closed, she thought about what he said. _Home._

For a very long time, to Cristina, home had always been merely a place to eat, sleep and keep all her stuffs. She thought that home would always mean Beverly Hills, the place she grew up at. Little did she know that one day she would learn that home did not have to necessary be a building; home can be a feeling, or a person who's always there for you, a person who knows all your little secrets, and never fails to make you feel safe. Cristina loved the hospital, but returning home after a long day at work always made her feel that it's so good to be back. Before moving to Zurich, she used to think that it's because of her bed, her blanket, or the familiar smell of the heartwarming home food. But actually, it's not. Instead, it's because of the person at home. She didn't care where they stay, she really didn't—because with Owen, she was already home.

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**NOTE: OMG finally I manage to end the story before the S12 premiere! _Hey There Now_ takes place before my first FF, _And She Felt Safe_, so maybe you would like to check that out too! Anyway, a big thank you to Eliza who has been beta-reading all my stories since I started writing, and also every single one of you who read this story! Wouldn't be able to finish the story without your support and reviews, so thank you so much! You guys are awesome! College is crazy but I will not stop writing and hopefully I can have something new up soon. If you ever feel that you are the only Crowen shipper left in the world, please remember that I'm still here! You can reach me on twitter danceit0ut if you want to talk about crowen or anything :) Crowen forever! Take care now! xx**


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